Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night
by Aariya07
Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos. ::AU; slash::
1. i m p r e s s i o n

_**Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -**__Aariya  
_

Rating: NC-17 :For now it's R, but the rating will go up in later chapters!:

Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.

Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry

Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I _have _done my research.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.

**Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night  
**

1. impression_

-:-

_When I met someone, it seemed to me that  
a season of songs, a rain shower of colors, pervaded my whole world;_

-:-

One more minute, then lunch.

It was awfully difficult to concentrate on Herbology when he was so hungry. Whose idea was it to give him a class right before lunch? He would gladly exchange his free period in the morning for Herbology any day. His Head of House continued with her lecture, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone had turned off their brain twenty minutes ago.

Thirty seconds, then lunch.

"Hey, Cedric," his best friend and fellow Hufflepuff, Andras Summers, tapped his arm and leaned in to whisper, "Davies wanted to know if it's true what they're saying about you and that Beauxbatons girl."

"What Beauxbatons girl?" Cedric returned, his eyes still on the time he'd charmed onto their worktable. He glanced up to see the two other boys at their table staring at him interestedly along with Andras.

"You know, Cho Chang," Andras replied.

Cedric scowled. He was getting tired of people asking him that. And he didn't particularly care for the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain's curiosity. "Fuck Davies," he spat. "He's the one spreading these stupid rumors. Cho and I talked once since the Yule Ball. And that's about it."

"Yeah, at Hogsmeade. In plain view," Andras reminded dryly.

"She greeted me. Was I supposed to be rude and turn her away?" Cedric argued.

Ten seconds.

"Well, then, don't wonder where people get this. You didn't even tell _me_ when I asked you about it," said Andras with an exaggerated pout. "Generally, when you say nothing, it's something."

"Well, in this case, it's most definitely nothing. Cho and I are not dating and will not be doing so in the near or far future," Cedric said with finality. "Davies can have her if he wants her so badly."

Three…two…one…

The beautiful ring of the bell sounded and all the boys quickly gathered their things to leave. Professor Sprout didn't call after them or try to stop them as they scurried out. She wasn't in the habit of giving homework on Fridays, and it would be pointless as they were beyond listening.

"You go ahead. I need to drop my things off," Cedric told his friends as they headed back to the school from the greenhouse.

"Sure," said Andras, shrugging.

Once they reached the Entrance Hall, they went their separate ways. Cedric went up the stairs to get to the fifth floor. As he suspected it to be, it was empty in the dorm when he entered. The other twenty-four boys never stopped by before lunch. Which was good because he wasn't in the mood to see Roger Davies right now.

Walking toward the spiral staircase by the windows in the common room, he ascended to the Head's Suite. All that he had done at Hogwarts Academy for Wizards was just so he could stay in the Head/Prefects Dorm. During his fifth year, he had become the Hufflepuff prefect and had earned the right to keep his position once he'd gotten to his sixth. And then he had beaten the other seven House prefects for Head Boy this year.

His goal had been the Dorm and he had ended up with the whole Head's Suite all to himself. Even his father hadn't reached that far. The Head's Suite had its own guarded entrance, a small common room with a cozy study area, a large bedroom, and its very own bathroom that had a connection to the Head/Prefect's bathroom two corridors away from the Dorm.

It was decorated tastefully in Hufflepuff colors, black and yellow, with some whites to balance it off. The overall feeling of the suite was elegance. The sofas in the common room surrounding the fireplace were of black leather and a luxury to sit upon. At the center of the circle of sofas was a black oak coffee table with pretty little yellow designs of cherry blossoms decorating the underside and legs.

Life at Hogwarts was good—despite its lack of girls—and he sure was going to miss it when he graduated. But that was still nine months away so there was no point in thinking about it.

Once in his suite, Cedric left his things at his desk then crossed to the bathroom to quickly wash up. After lunch, he usually had a thirty-minute break before his next class and he liked to spend that time unburdened so he could hang around.

The staircases seemed to be conspiring against Cedric on his way to the ground floor. Some of them led him elsewhere when he traversed them and the swiveling staircase changed courses several times while he was still on it. By the time he made it to the third floor, he was sure fifteen minutes had been wasted.

_So useless. What is the point of these things? _Cedric thought in frustration, his hunger having reached an all-time high. He hurried down the corridor, unmindful of the unusual amount of traffic on the floor for lunchtime.

It wasn't until he turned onto the Charms corridor that he noticed the amount of students milling about and chatting animatedly. Many of them stood at the windows looking out onto the front drive. The more he walked, the more students there were.

He almost walked past the Charms classroom, but stopped in his tracks once he glimpsed that there were more people in there than even out in the corridor. Clusters of boys stood at the large window overlooking the best view of the Hogwarts gates. Cedric, interested in what was going on now, entered the room. He found a clear spot at the window and looked out.

Down below, just a few feet away from the gates, stood Professor Sirius Black. He had a wide smile on his handsome face and, though it was hard to tell from way up here, his gray eyes gleamed with a kind of happiness Cedric had never seen before. As Professor Black was habitually a fun-loving man, that was saying something.

Despite being unable to see the tall—but not quite as tall—figure before him, Cedric could guess that all that joy was directed at the person. This person had two trunks and an empty owl cage at his feet. That meant that either he would be staying for an extended period of time, which was quite a rare occasion, or he was a new permanent addition to the castle, which was completely unheard of.

Yet, the fact that this might be a new student was the more likely of the two. From the back, Cedric could tell the figure was young, nineteen at the latest. He had a broad back, but not yet broad enough to be a man who was in his twenties and had grown into his shoulders. He possessed the form of a lithe, lightly muscled athlete who didn't do much physical workout but let playing sports take care of it.

Very dark black hair reached just the tip of the nape of his neck with some of it curled in on his ears, looking like spun silk under the bright sunlight. It appeared as though it were tamed with a flippant air, as if he'd tried to keep it perfectly flat but decided halfway through that he liked it better just the way it was. Cedric suspected that if it were shorter, his hair would be rather uncontrollable, but he seemed to have worked it out relatively well.

His posture, however, was excellent, belying a formal refinement that contradicted his assessment of a youth less than twenty. Pureblood maybe? One who was somehow related to Professor Black?

Professor Black clapped the person on the shoulder and made as if to usher him toward the school. The person bent to pick up the trunks and owl cage, but the professor stopped him, waving him off and, Cedric suspected, telling him the house-elves would see to his things.

Then Cedric could finally see the face of the boy as he turned around to follow Professor Black into the castle, and the noise level in the Charms room picked up. Cedric was inclined to agree. The boy was absolutely breathtaking—there was no other word that would do justice. Cedric himself had been called a number of things ranging from handsome to _pretty_, but he felt even those words fell short in the face of such beauty. It was otherworldly; a perfect blend of chiseled and fine features that it was a shame Cedric was only now seeing such a creation.

He had a thin face, set with high cheekbones, and a defined jaw that was connected to an extended neck. His longish bangs curled slightly into eyes that were the most arresting pair of emeralds. He was very pale, but not sickly so, almost in a luminescent sort of way.

As he strolled down the grounds with Professor Black, Cedric saw that he had utter command of his body. Every motion seemed almost calculated in its grace. Next to the boy, Professor Black—whom Cedric had always thought had an easy poise about him—seemed ungainly and bouncy.

When he could no longer see either of them from the window, Cedric began to wonder who the boy was and what his purpose was at Hogwarts. Had the other students known he was arriving? And, if they had, why were they so eager to see this person? What was so special about him?

Cedric's stomach decided to make its displeasure known then and, a little embarrassed and hoping no one else had heard that, he abandoned his thoughts and the room to go see about satisfying his much neglected hunger.

The third floor corridor was not the only place the students had gathered to catch a glimpse of their latest visitor, though. There were even more on the grand staircase, loitering about the Entrance Hall, probably having sighted the new arrival when he came in, and some flooding in through the double doors as well, adding to the babble.

Bemused, Cedric descended the stairs, trying to comprehend the significance of it all. Other than being extremely good-looking and apparently close to their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Cedric didn't understand why everyone else was talking about the boy. Nonetheless, as he continued his journey to the Great Hall, he caught snatches of thrilled conversation between his schoolmates.

"It really _is _him! I heard Professor Black say so!"

"Did you see it? It's right there, just as they said it would be!"

"Why do you think he's only starting now?"

"My father works with his and he tells me he has some illness so his mother home schooled him."

"You think that's from the spell?"

Cedric became more confused after each person he passed. What was the big fuss? Who was this boy that everyone seemed to know?

Hoping this mystery would be solved—and looking forward to finally eating—Cedric entered the Great Hall. Luckily, his curiosity hadn't delayed him too long as the food was just being served. He glanced up at the High Table in search of Professor Black on his way to the Hufflepuff table, but the man was nowhere to be seen and neither was the boy that had been with him.

"Where you been, Ced?" Andras asked the moment he sat down. "The Dorm isn't that far."

Reaching to fill his plate, Cedric was on the verge of answering when a group of sixth-year boys sat a little ways down the table from them, discussing something none too quietly.

"Apparently he's going here from now on. I just heard Weasley telling Thomas he's Professor Black's godson," Ernie Macmillan confided pompously to the rapt attention of the other boys.

Justin Finch-Fletchley appeared uncertain as he said, "I've heard the story as well, but I don't understand why he's only being seen now for the first time if he's so famous."

"Ou are they speaking of?" Étienne Renouf, another of Cedric's closest friends and one of the many students from France, asked. He wasn't the only one to have been attracted by the talk as their whole side of the table was listening in.

"Harry Potter." The answer came from fellow Quidditch player and seventh-year Daniel Summerby, who was just situating himself in the seat across from Cedric.

There was a frisson of shock at the name, one experienced by anyone who'd heard, which was everyone at the Hufflepuff table and some in other tables—who were no doubt passing it on to their neighbors, signaled by the sudden escalation of the noise level in the hall. Cedric also was beginning to make sense of all that he'd heard so far. When the Boy Who Lived was being publicly sighted for the first time since his capricious defeat of the Dark Lord at the tender age of fifteen months, there was bound to be much excitement surrounding the occasion.

"Harry Potter?" Andras echoed disbelievingly. "Here?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. He just came in with Black. By the looks of it, he'll be starting as a student here." He poured himself a drink, seemingly uncaring of the effect his words had had. Cedric had always admired his equanimity, even if it was frustrating at times, especially before a big game.

"Why now? Isn't he at least sixteen?" Kaelen Stebbins put in. "What is the point of going when he only has two years left?"

Now, though Cedric was interested, he was not one for gossip, so he did not mention what he'd heard a couple of blokes saying about Potter having an illness that had prevented him from attending sooner. It could be spot on or complete rubbish, and, if that were the case, he would not be involved in fanning the flames of that potentially harmful rumor. If it wasn't common knowledge, then there had to be a good reason behind all the secrecy around the Potter heir's total absence.

As it were, he didn't have to reveal that little tidbit as Daniel had evidently heard it, too, and had no qualms about sharing it. The information drew some sympathy from his Housemates and the table was soon rife with it. Cedric couldn't help feeling a little pity for the guy. He couldn't imagine being so well-known and then only coming out in public after fifteen years and being subjected to all this attention.

Even if Hogwarts was an all-boys school, the students here could gossip with the best of them. Though, admittedly, Cedric himself was just a _tiny _bit curious as well.

-:-

The rest of the day at Hogwarts was spent speculating about their visitor and, hopefully, new schoolmate. Cedric could not go anywhere without hearing about Harry Potter—his looks, his supposed illness, his defeat of the Dark Lord. A select few were only given a glimpse of the elusive Boy Who Lived, but everyone already had plenty of ideas about him.

By the next morning, most of the castle thought themselves pretty well-educated on the subject. These people, however, were proven wrong when breakfast came, and Cedric along with them.

It was Saturday and Cedric was looking forward to a day of relaxation. He left the Dorm with only Étienne, as their usual companion, Andras, loved his sleep and would not miss a chance to catch up on it. He wasn't the only one since almost three-quarters of the hall was empty when Cedric and Étienne walked in.

Cedric was just getting settled at the Hufflepuff table when his eyes fell upon the High Table. Among the usual line of professors, there was a new face, seated between Professor Black and Professor McGonagall.

Beside him, Étienne must have noticed, too, because he whistled lowly. "Is that 'im?" he asked, his light accent hard-won after six years. "Ee is very beautiful."

Cedric rolled his eyes; expect Étienne to be so straightforward about it. It was common knowledge that the French boy's gaze regularly strayed to his schoolmates, despite already having a boyfriend in Slytherin, fellow French student Zacharie Lefèbvre, who was equally as indecent, actually.

Though even Cedric, who'd never before looked at blokes that way, couldn't help thinking the same thing. There was just something about Harry Potter—beyond even his beauty—that made one take notice.

Breakfast was coming to an end and almost the entire school was in the hall, all discussing Potter as though he weren't sitting there, when Headmaster Dumbledore stood to address them. Everyone was immediately silent before the old wizard even began to speak.

"Thank you," the headmaster said with a gracious smile, his blue eyes twinkling as always. "I'm sure you are all curious about our guest here," he continued, gesturing toward Potter, who was standing up from behind his seat along with Professor McGonagall. "As you've speculated, this is indeed Harry Potter, and he will be, from here forth, attending our fine academy as a sixth year. So, please, bear with me a little further as he is Sorted."

No one would have left anyway even if he had told them to. They'd all been looking forward to any news they could get about Potter. The confirmation that he'd now be one of them was enough to once again animate the hall. Conversation died right away, however, when Professor McGonagall produced the Sorting Hat from somewhere below the High Table and placed it upon Potter's head.

The room was silent with eager anticipation as they waited to see what House would be the proud recipient of the Boy Who Lived. Potter himself was the picture of calm while the hat deliberated. Even when a whole minute had passed and everyone else was becoming impatient, he stood composedly waiting for the results.

Finally, when it seemed as though the hat was going to decide Potter was unfit for this school, its mouth opened at the seams and it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table promptly exploded into loud cheers and applause. Cedric continued to watch the High Table for reactions, noting the reserved but relieved expression on Potter's face, the very proud, exalted one on Professor Black's (with a smile wide enough to crack his face to boot), the pleased expressions on both Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore's, and the oddly distinct disappointment on Professor Snape's face. The others were easily explained, but Cedric could not fathom why Professor Snape would be upset that Potter turned out to be a Gryffindor. Surely, he hadn't wanted him to be a Slytherin. Had he?

"Thank you for your patience; you are dismissed," the headmaster said above the enthusiasm of the Gryffindors. "Mr. Diggory, if you could please come here, I would appreciate your assistance."

Confused as to what the headmaster wanted with him, Cedric stood from his seat. His friends threw him questioning glances, but he had no idea either and had no answers for them. Cedric navigated through the throng of students exiting the hall still chattering about the Sorting. The professors at the High Table were also departing, leaving only Potter and the headmaster. Cedric came around the table to stand beside them when Professor Dumbledore gestured for him to do so.

"What can I do for you, headmaster?" Cedric inquired, standing before the older wizard.

"I apologize for inconveniencing you on your day off, Mr. Diggory," the professor began, "but Harry here is regrettably unequipped for a school environment, and we would be grateful if you could help him get situated and comfortable."

"That is no problem, headmaster. I would be happy to help," Cedric said sincerely. He was Head Boy for a reason, after all.

The professor smiled widely, eyes twinkling evermore. "Excellent! Thank you, my boy." He turned to the thus far quiet boy beside him. "Harry, this is Cedric Diggory, the Head Boy."

Harry Potter was even more stunning up close, especially so when he gave Cedric a small, kind smile and nodded. "Pleased to meet you."

The first thing Cedric noticed when Potter spoke was his accent. It wasn't English, but had some type of Scottish emphasis. Cedric was sure he'd heard it before and tried to place it. Scots-Gaelic, if he remembered correctly. One of his father's coworkers had a very thick Scots-Gaelic brogue. Potter's was much softer, though, but still glaringly noticeable to any English speaker.

"Pleasure to meet you as well," said Cedric, returning his smile.

"Well, Mr. Diggory, I'll get out of your hair. You can do whatever it is you believe is necessary to help Harry adjust," said Headmaster Dumbledore. He paused, and then he leaned slightly toward Cedric, and locked very serious eyes on him over his half-moon spectacles. He murmured so lowly that Cedric was certain Potter couldn't hear, "I advise you to be careful with him, Mr. Diggory. There are people who are very protective over young Harry, and would do anything to keep him safe."

Cedric felt an imperceptible chill travel down his spine. He watched warily as the headmaster smiled mildly while he bid them farewell, and then leave after a pat to Potter's shoulder. Whilst Cedric was no fool, he found it hard to believe the feeling he just got of Albus Dumbledore threatening him. Even so, it was hard to shake off the impression the warning had given him.

Aware that Potter was patiently waiting for him, Cedric set aside this concern for later. He turned to the younger boy and suggested, "The castle is overwhelmingly large for any newcomer, so how about we start off with a tour?"

"I am amenable to that," Potter replied in a rather proper manner.

Cedric inwardly shook his head. There was no mistake that Potter had never been in a school environment. No one spoke quite so rigidly here, even purebloods who believed themselves the epitome of refined. He would soon loosen up, however, if he were to be surrounded by raucous Gryffindors on a daily basis.

The two of them never got quite as far as the double doors because Professor Snape accosted them halfway down the hall. Cedric noticed the smile Potter bestowed upon the most feared professor in Hogwarts. Yet more surprising was the soft look the Potions Master returned before his expression became the normally implacable one everyone was used to when he turned his gaze on Cedric.

"Diggory, a word." His tone brooked no place for argument. He cut Potter a glance when he stepped forward and added, "Alone."

"Is something the matter, Sev—" Potter began to ask worriedly.

"No. I will have him back in one piece," Professor Snape interrupted, inciting an amused smile from the newly-Sorted Gryffindor. Potter nodded and backed down. Cedric wasn't as confident about this assurance.

He followed the professor a bit nervously, though he hid it well. Like the rest of the school, Cedric practiced a healthy amount of caution around the Potions professor, especially as the man was not overly fond of Hufflepuffs. But Cedric was one of the few non-Slytherins Professor Snape tolerated, even on those bad days when Slytherin lost a Quidditch match, particularly to Hufflepuff. He couldn't imagine what he'd done all of a sudden to deserve the man's ire.

Professor Snape led him far from Potter, past even the point where there was no possible way the sixth year could overhear their conversation. Cedric stood before him as the man scrutinized him with his intense coal black eyes. He tried very hard not to fidget under the probing gaze.

At last, just as Cedric was thinking of impudently—because it would be seen as impudence by the strict man—asking what he could do for the professor, he spoke, "The headmaster tells me Harry will be in your care for an undetermined amount of time."

It wasn't a question. He'd phrased it in a way that made it sound like he already knew it to be true and was doing Cedric the courtesy of getting him on the same page. Cedric hadn't known the time would be _undetermined_, but he didn't want to seem as though he were disagreeing with either professor so he nodded.

"Yes, sir."

The professor made a noncommittal noise, gaze still practically drilling a hole into him. "In that case," he drawled, his voice dropping into a silky caress that didn't help Cedric's anxiety, "it would be terribly remiss of me not to inform you how prudent it is to consider the ramifications should your service be anything less than satisfactory."

Cedric thought he did an admirable job of keeping the alarm off his face. The professor must have seen something either way since his expression became more stern, what with the way his eyes were honed in on him.

"Do I make myself clear?" the professor questioned, one austere brow raised. "Surely, even one of your unfortunate classification can understand that."

Cedric bristled inwardly at the jab to his House, but did not give him the satisfaction of reacting, especially when the man was basically trying to intimidate him. "Yes, professor," he said promptly, jaws clenched but his face a blank slate. "I understand perfectly."

The Slytherin Head of House's thin lips curved into a smirk. "Good," he purred coldly. "We shall see, then. Shan't we, Mr. Diggory?"

Without waiting for a reply, he swept out of the Great Hall in a flurry of billowing robes, leaving the two of them alone. Cedric disbelievingly contemplated what had just happened. What was it with these respectable (or not so much in the Potions Master's case) professors threatening the Head Boy, essentially the embodiment of all the characteristics valued in today's students? He'd doubted that the headmaster had been doing so, but now that he'd encountered another threat because of Potter, he was sure Professor Dumbledore had been doing just that.

The headmaster had not been kidding when he'd professed that there were 'people' who were very protective of Potter. He'd just not been counting on the universally accepted git of Hogwarts to be one of them. If the mildest professor at Hogwarts and the unfeeling Slytherin who despised Gryffindors were doing this, Cedric dreaded what threat he'd receive from Potter's godfather, who though normally jovial was notorious for his temper.

He'd certainly not signed up for this when he'd unthinkingly accepted this position of trying to get Potter assimilated into this foreign setting. Not thinking things through was absolutely unlike Cedric. He'd just been so drawn to Potter from the first moment that he couldn't resist (besides it would have been hard to refuse the headmaster).

Cedric was reminded of the oft-quoted expression, "Curiosity killed the cat." And there were only so many threats he could get before his nine lives ran out.

Potter came to join him and broke his contemplation by worriedly asking, "Are you all right?"

Cedric snapped out of his reflections and turned to him, a little surprised by the honest concern in his green eyes. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was just lost in thought."

"Are you sure?" Potter persisted, studying his face carefully. "Was it something Severus said?"

Cedric was taken aback. _Severus?_ How close was Potter to the Potions Master to refer to him by his first name? The professor wasn't known for his warmth and giving anyone that kind of permission seemed unfathomable. This was the first time he was even _thinking_ the man's name without an honorific and his surname attached to it.

"Ah, no. Nothing like that," he lied, unwilling to make a big deal out of it. "Shall we start the tour, then?"

Potter appeared not to believe him, but he nodded anyway. "If you are sure."

Cedric led Potter out of the Great Hall and was met with no further disruptions. In fact, he gave the younger student a thorough guide of the entire ground floor, dungeons (only briefly), and the courtyard before they were once again stopped on the first floor by Professor Black while in the Defense corridor.

"Harry!" he called happily from down the hallway as he came out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and walked over to them. "I see you've met our resident superstar."

Potter glanced at him, and Cedric only just managed not to blush. Professor Black had a new name alluding to Cedric's popularity among the students every week. He was only glad it was said in jest.

"Though, you might want to watch out, Diggory. Harry'll be giving you a run for your money," the Defense instructor continued, winking at him.

Potter uneasily voiced both their embarrassment, "Sirius…"

The professor guffawed his usual bark-like laugh at their discomfiture. "Sorry. I only kid, of course," he declared rather unapologetically. He glanced between them then curiously asked, "What're you up to?"

"Cedric was generous enough to offer to show me around the school," Potter informed, smiling appreciatively at the Head Boy.

Cedric felt heat pool in the pit of his stomach, both at his given name coming from Potter's lips and the beautiful smile directed at him. He fought to keep the blush working its way up his neck from traveling to his face at the unexpected reaction. Noticing the perceptive look Professor Black was giving him, Cedric quickly turned away from the man's godson.

That, however, did not stop the warning that came anyway.

"Yes, that's very nice of him," he commented indifferently. He then grinned at Cedric and cheerfully cautioned, "Anything happens to my godson while he's in your care, Diggory, and I'll rip you apart. Got it?"

Potter gasped, appalled. "Sirius!"

Innocently, he turned to said godson. "What? I'm only stating the facts."

"You can't say that to him! He's been nothing but kind to me," argued Potter, raising his voice for the first time since Cedric had been with him.

"Good. We won't be having any problems, then," the professor returned nonchalantly, as though threatening his students were an everyday occurrence.

Another threat made to him within five minutes of meeting Potter. It was some kind of record, especially as Cedric had never been threatened before in his life. He'd always been relatively well-liked.

Frankly, he'd thought he'd receive something much more dramatic from Professor Black, seeing as the man _was _Potter's godfather and not exactly known for his docile temper. In a way, however, it was much worse than the other two; blunt and said with surety. Cedric could actually believe the professor would swiftly follow through on his threat.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Cedric coolly, sounding unbothered, which earned him a challenging smirk from the professor and an amused quirk of the lips from Potter.

"All right, I'll be going, then," the Defense instructor announced. He gave Potter a one-armed hug and added, "Come by later, Harry."

Potter smiled at him. "Okay."

Professor Black nodded at Cedric. "Diggory, I wasn't joking." Gray eyes glinting mischievously, he winked at him and walked off quickly, leaving before Potter's admonishments could reach him.

"I'm sorry about that," Potter apologized immediately after. He added uncertainly, "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"It's okay," said Cedric, smiling at the Gryffindor. "I'll take good care of you so there's no need."

Potter blushed lightly and Cedric promptly carried on with the tour to avoid the same fate.

_I'll take good care of you? _he thought incredulously, disbelieving such sap had spewed forth from his mouth. It couldn't get much cheesier than that.

Cedric stopped analyzing his behavior around Potter once he got further into the tour and began to relax, allowing his usual calm, collected composure to come through. But this was only accomplished because he was distracted by the abundant amount of knowledge he knew about everything Hogwarts as he rattled off the statistics to Potter. He'd practically memorized the whole of _Hogwarts, A History _before his eleventh birthday, so enchanted that he'd been with the castle.

What was odd, though, was how genuinely interested Potter seemed in the guide, especially all the unnecessary details Cedric threw in. He hung on Cedric's word and asked questions and even requested that he elaborate on some things. When Potter commented on how educated Cedric was on the subject, he'd joked about his almost-obsessive fascination with _Hogwarts, A History_ as a child. Instead of being put off by it, Potter had asked where he himself could find the book. Before he'd realized it, Cedric was offering his copy for the new student to borrow.

By the time it got close to lunchtime, Cedric had shown Potter almost all of Hogwarts but for the rest of the castle grounds. After arranging to show him the grounds after lunch, he took the sixth year to Gryffindor Tower so he could at least get to know his House before he was to eat with them.

"I really appreciate you doing this for me," was the first thing Potter said to him as they came to a stop before the portrait of The Fat Lady. His bright green eyes gazed at him from underneath his lashes and Cedric was struck by the pure intensity of the color. "You obliged me when you did not have to. You were very informative, and I thank you for that."

A bit embarrassed by the wholehearted gratitude and at the emotions those eyes were stirring in him, Cedric waved it off, "I was more than happy to do it."

Potter's accent was softer when he told him in a low voice, "You are very kind, Cedric." He hesitated, a worried look on his face. "I hope you do not mind that I call you Cedric. If so, I apologize."

"No," Cedric quickly reassured. "You may call me Cedric. I don't mind."

Potter blinked before giving him a timid smile. "In that case, I would like it if you called me Harry. Unless, of course, you do not wish to."

He really hadn't expected for Harry Potter to be so friendly. Not that Cedric was sure of what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that he be so polite, demure, affable, and intelligent. Maybe, as much as he tried not to, he'd formed his own conclusions based on his Sorting. Had Potter been a lot more like most of the people in his House, Cedric would not have been the least bit shocked.

"I would like that," Cedric said, smiling back, not minding at all that his subconscious expectations had been disproved. Harry Potter really was something else, and Cedric thought him lovely just the way he was. (Not that he customarily thought of boys as being lovely, mind.)

"Mr. Diggory," a commanding, unmistakable female voice spoke from down the corridor, "there you are."

Both he and Harry glanced in the direction of where the tall Transfiguration professor was walking purposely over to them.

"It is good that I caught you," she said once she came to a stop facing Cedric. "Harry's rooms shall not be in the tower."

Mystified, Cedric inquired, "Where will he be staying, professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry, her eyes softening as though magically, a magic that seemed to be cast upon most of the professors when it came to the Boy Who Lived. "His quarters are already set up," she informed. "Come, I will show you where."

A fleeting look Harry's way revealed that he hadn't known about this, but now had suspicions as to where they were being led. They didn't go far from the Gryffindor Tower, only about two corridors away. It was in a corridor with three large oak doors equally spaced out down the hallway. They followed the professor to the door in the middle.

"This is where you shall be staying from now on, Harry," Professor McGonagall informed the younger student. "Should you need anything, know that Sirius and I are close by." She gestured toward the doors on either side of the one before them. "And, of course, Albus is not far either," she added.

Harry nodded in understanding, smiling softly at her. "I know. Thank you."

Professor McGonagall gave him a quick nod. "Why don't you go inside and get acquainted with your quarters, I need to speak with Mr. Diggory," she strongly suggested.

Harry looked between them interestedly. "I'll see you later, Cedric," he said, moving to open the grand door behind him.

"See ya, Harry," Cedric called after him. He turned his attention back on the Transfiguration instructor, readying himself for what he just knew was about to come.

Any warmth the professor might have had on her face left completely the moment the door to Harry's room closed. She gave the Head Boy a look she typically reserved for her more rowdy students, not one as venerated as the academy's prized student.

"Now, Mr. Diggory," she began, "I'm sure you've been told this enough today, so I won't waste mine and your time repeating it. But I cannot impress upon you how important it is that you take the job you've been given very seriously, because should anything happen to Harry on your watch, I _will _hold you accountable."

Cedric was beginning to understand that the headmaster had not simply wanted him to get Harry comfortable, but had given him complete responsibility over the boy. What he did not get, though, was why Harry needed all these people watching over him so closely. Did it have to do with why he was only starting school now and why he hadn't been seen since his defeat of You-Know-Who? Were those rumors of his illness true to have people this overprotective of him? So protective that they didn't allow him to sleep with his Housemates but positioned him between two professors' chambers.

"Do I make myself clear?" Professor McGonagall asked, her face taut.

Cedric nodded very seriously. "Yes, ma'am."

The headmaster had given him a duty he thought was critical enough to have his Head Boy focus on it so immensely, and Cedric wasn't going to disappoint. He would watch over Harry like a hawk if need be, and even more so if he actually were sick.

-:-

The morning after, Cedric separated from Étienne once they left the Dorm. His friend continued on to the Great Hall and Cedric climbed the stairs to the seventh floor to Harry's room. He'd not told Harry that he intended to escort him to breakfast, but hopefully the Gryffindor hadn't left yet. He knew Harry wasn't in need of further assistance to find his way around the castle. The boy had shown yesterday that his memory was beyond excellent as he'd remembered everything he'd been shown and told to the minute detail.

He knocked only once on the door when Harry swung it open. He appeared as though he'd been awake for a while. He was dressed in his school uniform for the first time. He needn't wear it on a Sunday, but Cedric had a feeling Harry was the type who dressed formally even when he didn't have to.

"Morning, Harry," Cedric greeted. "Mind an escort to the Great Hall?"

"Good morning, Cedric," returned Harry, the kind expression the older boy was getting used to on his face. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Cedric waited outside while Harry went back in for his robes. When he came out, he was wearing the standard Hogwarts issued black robes with a Gryffindor crest.

"Do you know what classes you'll be taking?" Cedric made conversation during their walk to breakfast.

"Yes; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and History of Magic," replied Harry.

"Ten classes?" Cedric asked incredulously. "That's a bit much for a N.E.W.T.s student."

"I have yet to receive my O.W.L results so I've been asked to take all the classes that interest me until I do," Harry notified him.

"Did you take the exams only recently?" Cedric asked.

He looked at Harry, taking in the casual way he walked beside him. Besides the four professors who'd threatened him, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom, Cedric seemed to be the only other person Harry was this unguarded around. He'd gathered that the Gryffindor wasn't overly comfortable around the other students and was very rigid when in the vicinity of those he didn't know. Being out of the public eye for most of his life had obviously had an effect on him.

Harry returned his gaze, a sort of trust in his eyes that Cedric felt humbled to see directed at him. "Yes. I took them in July when I learned I would be attending Hogwarts this year."

Cedric would have liked to ask him why he'd taken the test so late if he indeed had been getting home schooled and should have kept up with standard mandatory exams. But he didn't want to abuse whatever trust Harry had in him by trying to confirm a rumor and instead dropped the subject.

The Great Hall wasn't very full when the two of them entered; nevertheless, everyone inside immediately turned to them. Cedric, after only a day, was already starting to get used to people eyeing him as though he were an intriguing specimen whenever he was with Harry. He'd always gotten his fair share of attention, there was just more when the Boy Who Lived was beside him.

Harry, on the other hand, was still visibly discomfited by all the people ogling him. It made sense if he hadn't had the chance to get used to his celebrity status in the wizarding world and was only now being thrust in front of them for their viewing pleasure.

"Thank you for your assistance, Cedric. I'll see you later," Harry expressed his gratitude again. He quickly went to the Gryffindor table and sat beside Weasley to escape the eyes on him.

Cedric too walked over to the Hufflepuff table and sat beside Étienne. The French prefect was giving him a shrewd look Cedric didn't care much for.

"It seems that you 'ave gotten quite close to the new student," Étienne commented, one dark blond brow raised tauntingly.

"You could say that," Cedric agreed nonchalantly. "He's an easy person to get along with."

Étienne smiled haughtily. "I'll bet."

Cedric rolled his eyes, refusing to even entertain whatever the other Hufflepuff was insinuating.

He looked straight ahead to where Harry was sitting at the table in front of his. The Gryffindor sat on the side that was facing him, which gave Cedric a good view of him. All through breakfast, he kept stealing glances, trying not to do it, but unable to help himself anyway. His discreet looks went unnoticed by everyone except Harry, who returned it at times with his own coy glances.

He didn't know what it was about Harry, but something beckoned him to the younger boy. From the moment he'd seen him, Cedric had been hooked, and now it seemed he couldn't get enough.

* * *

I _know_ all the things that are not canon with this. I've obviously turned Hogwarts into an all-boys school and Beauxbatons into an all-girls school (why, I cannot fathom; just to add a bit of interest in it, I suppose), and I've made Cedric's birthday in 1978, so he's only a year above Harry and two years older than him. There will be other changes and I would appreciate it if they weren't pointed out to me as I know what I'm doing.

This story is first and foremost a love story, with a dash of mystery and drama. It is as different from HTVL as it can get. Know that Part I will take place mainly from Cedric's point of view and that you'll see Harry's only very occasionally. This is to keep the shroud of mystery throughout the first twenty chapters.

* * *

Edited: 11/27/09


	2. r a p p o r t

_**Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.

Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry

Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I _have _done my research.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.

**Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night  
**

2. rapport_ 

-:-

_The whole atmosphere now scented by a whirlwind of fragrance,  
all the breezes now staggering drunkenly;  
And someone in every direction, every element._

-:-

"Don't think you can so easily sidetrack me, young man. I used to change your diapers; I know all of your tricks."

Professor Minerva McGonagall's reprimand was the first thing Cedric heard when he rounded the corner to where Harry's rooms were. Harry was being subjected to one of the professor's harsh stares (though nowhere near as harsh as it was for other people) while he stood before her looking sheepish and sufficiently rebuked.

"You're right. I'm sorry," apologized Harry. "I'll tell you all about it."

Cedric walked at a slower pace to give them some privacy. He was sure the professor would not want him to witness her looking like such a mother hen.

"Be sure that you do," said Professor McGonagall. She laid a gentle hand on his cheek then swiftly departed. She nodded approvingly at Cedric as she passed him in the hall.

He supposed that was for coming to escort Harry even after it was obvious he did not need any help navigating the castle. The professors had shown they were quite serious about their threat to him and seemed satisfied that he was taking it seriously as well.

Cedric put them out of his mind the moment Harry's breathtaking smile was turned on him.

"Good morning, Cedric," he greeted, meeting him halfway down the corridor.

"Morning, Harry. Are you ready for classes?" Cedric asked.

Harry didn't appear too sure as he answered, "I hope so. I have never been taught along with so many other students."

Cedric was glad that Harry felt he could share that with him. He'd expected the other boy to reply with a cursory affirmative, but that he was honestly telling him about his insecurities showed how comfortable he was with him.

"I doubt it's much different than being taught alone," Cedric put in as he led the way to breakfast. "There's just more people around who'll hear and learn the same thing you are. Not to mention, your friends will have most of your classes with you."

"I don't know anyone besides Ron and Neville," said Harry. He then smiled at Cedric. "But there are other very nice people like you who I've gotten to know."

"That's good to hear, Harry." Cedric smiled back, amused and flattered to learn that he was apparently the standard for measuring up the benevolence of others.

Their walk to the Great Hall was no different than it was yesterday. It was Harry's fourth day in Hogwarts and there wasn't any indication that the attention he continued to receive was going to let up anytime soon. Whenever the students stared too long, Harry would self-consciously pull his bangs even lower, to the point that they fell over his eyes.

This particular action had made Cedric realize that he had yet to see the lightning bolt scar reported to be on Harry's forehead. Few had said that they'd seen it, but even Cedric, who spent the most time with him out of all the other students (besides Weasley and Longbottom), hadn't glimpsed it.

"Have you known Weasley and Longbottom for long?" Cedric asked to distract him; it was a long walk to the Great Hall.

Harry probably realized what he was doing. In the time that he'd known him, Cedric had learned that he was extremely perceptive and appeared to be able to tell what people were feeling or thinking.

"I've known both of them since we were kids," said Harry, a reminiscent expression on his face as he recounted. "Our parents are friends so we grew up around each other. Ron and I hit it off right away, and we became best mates practically from the first moment. Neville was very shy, though, and it was a little hard to get to know him, but we eventually got through to him."

Cedric had begun to notice how Harry's formal speech was becoming more lax the more comfortable he got with him. With other people, he was pretty much the same, but he spoke freely to him and wasn't as proper as the first time they'd talked. Maybe because of this, his Scots-Gaelic accent seemed to be more prominent. It was less controlled and easier to place than when he spoke reservedly. He was still more polite than any sixteen-year-old ought to be, but in a less unyielding manner.

"Longbottom is still very bashful," Cedric pointed out.

Harry chuckled lowly, a lilting sound that caused Cedric's stomach to flip. "We did not succeed outside the people close to him. He is rather garrulous when you get to know him, though."

_Only Harry_, Cedric thought in amusement at the younger boy's use of a word like garrulous when a simpler one would do just fine.

The two split when Cedric stopped to join the Hufflepuffs and Harry proceeded on to the table over, both of them exchanging parting words. As it was Monday, the table was almost full and Cedric had more curious eyes on him today than he did when he'd escorted Harry in the weekend.

None of them quite understood why he continued to be in the sixth year's presence past the obligatory amount of time. Andras had asked Cedric about it but he hadn't known exactly what to tell him. _The professors threatened me?_ That wouldn't work.

He'd gone with half of the truth: that he liked being with Harry and he didn't mind it, which had earned him sidelong, discerning glances from both Andras and Étienne. Even Daniel, who was usually wholly indifferent about anything that didn't concern him, gazed at him skeptically. Étienne, he could understand—the French boy always saw something that wasn't actually there in everything—but why were Andras and Daniel joining in?

Cedric had only been eating for about ten minutes when he was interrupted by Zacharias Smith insinuating himself in the seat to his left, pushing Blake Wolsey aside. Blake looked very affronted at the sixth year's daring. Before Smith even spoke, Cedric knew what he wanted to say.

"Diggory," the blond spoke in his trademark mightier-than-thou tone, "when are you going to schedule practice?"

The boy was really starting to grate on his nerves. This was the third time he'd asked since Cedric had chosen him as the new Chaser during yesterday's tryouts. Since then, Cedric had been forced to question his judgment, wondering what he'd been thinking when, of all the people, he'd picked this utter slight to Hufflepuff's name. Unfortunately, there hadn't been anyone as good so he'd been forced to go with him if he wanted a chance at the Cup this year. If Malcolm Preece hadn't graduated last year, they wouldn't be having this problem.

Attempting to keep his cool, Cedric replied, "Practice doesn't usually start until October." Then, to get him off his back, he added, "But I've booked the pitch for Saturday so the new players can have a little more time."

Smith's upturned nose became even more upturned, if possible. "You believe _I _need more practice than your _experts_?" He spat out 'experts' as though it were being forced to come out of his lips.

Daniel was beginning to lose his ironclad composure, Cedric noticed, and the others had already lost it, but he refused to be riled up by the little punk.

"I thought you were so eager to practice? I am doing this for your benefit," he countered.

"It's not like I _need_ it," Smith asserted as he stood. "I only asked because I want to play, not for practicing purposes."

A consecutive eye roll went around the table at his declaration. Smith was so full of it; his Housemates had given up being surprised at his need to stroke his ego every chance he got.

"Why do you indulge the little twat?" Andras asked him when the boy went back to his seat.

"He's not worth it," said Cedric. "It doesn't help to get mad."

"It's not like I _need _it," mimicked Daniel in irritation, eyes narrowed at where the sixth year sat. "As if his skills are anything to boast of." He turned to Cedric. "You do realize Cadwallader and I have to work with the tosser, don't you? Does he seem like a team player to you?"

While unperturbed by most anything, Quidditch was the one thing Daniel was really passionate about. Cedric could understand his frustration. If the potential to lose because of another's inability to work as part of a team existed, he had a right to be angry.

"I'm sorry, but you know there was no one else quite as good," Cedric reasoned. "We'll see how he works in a team on Saturday. If he can't cooperate, I'll replace him."

"That other sixth year wasn't so bad," Daniel reminded him, pointing with his fork at a brown-haired French boy who was sitting beside Lythan Cadwallader. "Josephe Tronçon."

Cedric nodded in acknowledgment of his choice replacement. "He was my next option."

Next to him, Blake growled, "I don't care what you guys do with him; he comes anywhere near me again, Quidditch will be the last thing he worries about."

Daniel seemed almost excited by the prospect. Blake was big; a skinny guy like Smith had to have at least some guts to be pushing him aside when there was a possibility of incurring his wrath.

"I feel sorry for him already," expressed Kaelen, though the smirk on his face said he was far from it.

Cedric snorted amusedly. "I can see you're really broken up about it."

Kaelen grinned and shrugged, eating his excessively syrupy Scotch pancakes with gusto.

The boys were getting back to their normal breakfast conversations when the morning owls came in to the Great Hall. Cedric glanced up when his silver and dark gray hawk owl, Aspen, swooped down to deliver his weekly letter from home. He greeted and fed his owl as he unhurriedly opened the letter and read it through.

There wasn't anything different in it than there usually was. But, tacked on to the end, was an out-of-routine question about Harry Potter. _Is it true what the _Prophet_ is saying about Harry Potter?_

Surprised, Cedric looked up from his letter so he could read along with Andras, who, unlike him, actually read the _Daily Prophet_, and didn't seem to mind how unreliable it proved to be every time. He found out that the _Prophet_ _was _running a story on the Boy Who Lived's public return to the wizarding world before he even took a look at the paper. The entire hall was already talking about the story and passing the paper along to their neighbors.

"Can I see that?" Cedric asked Andras. Andras angled the paper so they could look on together. The loud headline news proudly displayed on the front page was very eye-catching. It would be hard for anyone to miss.

_**BOY WHO LIVED RETURNS AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS!**_

**HARRY POTTER ENROLLS IN HOGWARTS AND JOINS GRYFFINDOR HOUSE**

Cedric didn't bother to read the rest of it. He was sure he didn't want to know what they said about Harry and all the things they thought they knew. He was much more concerned with knowing how Harry was taking this.

He obviously wasn't the only one who wanted to see as most everyone was intermittently glancing at the sixth year while they read their paper. Harry looked tremendously uncomfortable and appeared as though he were contemplating fleeing the hall. Weasley and Longbottom were trying to get him to remain calm and keep all the eyes off him. This wasn't working very well as the longer people read the paper, the more talk that filled the hall.

Finally, when the noise level was the highest Cedric had ever heard it, Headmaster Dumbledore stood to address them. His face was that of someone attempting to contain a lot of anger. It was an expression none of the students had ever had the misfortune of seeing on the powerful wizard. This was most uncharacteristic of the headmaster.

"That will be quite enough," he commanded, his voice not rising but managing to reach everyone despite it. He waved his hand and all the food and tableware promptly disappeared. "Breakfast has come to an end; I believe you all have classes to be getting to." With a controlled frown and eyes devoid of his trademark twinkle, he added, "I do not want to hear of this unfortunate business again. Dismissed."

Students were quick to shuffle out of the Great Hall. It was the fastest and most silent emptying of the hall to date. Cedric heard not even a peep until he and the others were well out of range. No one dared to question the headmaster until they were sure he couldn't hear.

"Has he gone _mad_?" sixth-year Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, voiced loudly in an affronted manner, as though the headmaster had dealt a personal slight against him. His two brain dead cronies shrugged from either side of him. Malfoy amended, "Well, more mad would be the correct question, I suppose. That Dumbledore has never been quite right in the head, has he?"

"Shut up, Malfoy! You don't know what you're talking about," Ron Weasley spoke up from somewhere.

The crowd in the Entrance Hall immediately parted to form a circle around the two rivals. Cedric looked around but was unable to see Harry anywhere in sight. Perhaps he'd been asked to stay after.

Malfoy seemed smugly pleased as he watched Weasley through his belittling silver eyes. "What did you say, Weasel?" he drawled. "Have you some knowledge to impart onto us about how the Muggle lover's actions were _not _expected senile behavior?"

Weasley stepped menacingly closer to the Slytherin, his temper written all over his face in an interesting shade of red that can only be described as Weasley red. Malfoy's cronies were quick to get in Weasley's face before he could get too close, which had Malfoy smirking superiorly at the Gryffindor, like it was his own strength that was backing him up.

Cedric realized this was going nowhere fast and decided to intervene before the professors came out and had a chance to themselves. He came between the sixth years, his wand at the ready just in case things got out of hand, though he doubted he would need it.

"Break it up," he ordered in his best 'Head Boy' voice. He turned to the spectators. "The headmaster expects you all to be in class, so I suggest you get on with it before I begin deducting points."

The students were all fast to start moving. Cedric wasn't known for deducting points willy-nilly, he only did so when it was very necessary, even when he'd been prefect. He was a likeable Head Boy, but one who took his job seriously and followed through when rules were being broken. Malfoy and his cronies and Weasley needed a little more persuasion than the others in the form of a hard glare, but they too cleared out without protest.

Crises averted, Cedric swiftly headed to the dungeons for Potions, determined to get there before Professor Snape and not give him an excuse to make an example out of him.

-:-

He didn't see Harry again until he caught him right before lunch while he was coming down the stairs and Harry was coming up from the dungeons, from Potions he assumed. He recalled a while ago that the sixth-year N.E.W.T.s class came in at the end of his free period spent there talking about a potion with a disgruntled Potions Master, who'd been none too happy that Cedric had deprived him of his own free time.

"Hi, Harry," Cedric greeted, meeting him at the bottom of the steps.

Harry's downtrodden expression took a turn for the better as he all but beamed at him. "Hello, Cedric."

"You all right?" Cedric asked, surprised at the unusual amount of emotion on his face. Maybe the younger boy had been more upset about the article than he'd originally thought.

"Yes," was the soft reply. "I'm just not used to so many people looking at me." He smiled sheepishly, as though this were _his _fault.

"That's okay," Cedric assured firmly. "It must be pretty overwhelming. I doubt it's easy for anyone."

His words seemed to give some comfort to Harry. His smile was softer and more genuine, and his eyes gazed thankfully at him.

"How were your classes?" Cedric asked, leading the way to the hall.

"They were good," Harry said. His voice, though, sounded very skeptical.

"What's wrong?"

Harry grimaced and kept quiet for a second. Then, with a sigh, he finally asked, "Should they be so…easy?"

Cedric blinked, bewildered. He glanced at the Gryffindor. "Easy?"

"Yes; very much so," Harry confirmed. He bit his lip in a way that had Cedric's gaze immediately focusing on the action. "Perhaps it is just me."

Cedric decided it was now fine to ask what he'd been wondering all along, especially as Harry had brought up the subject. "Who taught you before you came to Hogwarts?"

Harry looked at him, confusion in his emerald eyes. "Did you not read the paper?"

"No," answered Cedric, marveling at the fact that the _Prophet_ had actually gotten something right.

"Good," Harry said decisively. "It was all rubbish, anyway."

Cedric laughed. The _Daily Prophet_ had kept up its track record, after all. "What did it say?"

"There is apparently speculation that I attended a top-notch remote school that houses the most powerful wizards and witches in the world," drawled Harry, punctuating the end of his explanation with an eye roll.

Cedric couldn't keep the highly amused smile off his face. This was the first time Harry had showcased any behavior resembling that of a typical teenager's. It was a refreshing sight.

"Most of the students believe you were home schooled by your mother, though now that that drivel's been printed, their beliefs will have changed to mirror it," Cedric revealed.

"That, at least, is much closer to the truth," acknowledged Harry. "But I was not taught exclusively by my mother. She doesn't have that kind of time while also raising three boys."

_Harry has brothers?_ Cedric thought.

He'd never heard that tidbit about the Potters, and wondered why that had never been made public when everything else about Harry's life was on display. But if they were not going to Hogwarts, they were probably born long after the Potter heir's disappearance.

"Exclusively?" he repeated. "So she's taught you some of the time?"

Harry nodded and elucidated, "Only during holiday breaks when my private teachers were on vacation. Even then, it was only language and some Charms work."

"Private teachers? That must be why you think it's easy," Cedric guessed.

"Do you think that is why?" Harry asked, looking at him. When Cedric nodded, he said, "I suppose you are right. I've been told my teachers are some of the best people in their field; having their undivided attention on me certainly increases my chances."

Cedric raised a brow at his casual attitude about the whole thing, as if it were common to have private teachers who were the best at their job and, as a result, view the curriculum of one of the best wizarding schools in the world as facile. It could be that he didn't realize it _wasn't _normal. Cedric had, after all, witnessed the way he was uneasy with what was considered average for most everyone and the way he'd accepted things out of the ordinary.

In the end, however, Cedric didn't much care. He liked that Harry was different, and if he learned more information that set him apart, then that was all well and good, too. He'd take anything that would shed light on the enigma that was Harry Potter.

Today, feeling like he needed to show some support for his new friend after the ill-received article, Cedric walked Harry to his seat at the Gryffindor table, uncaring of the gazes practically burning holes in his back. Weasley gave him an approving nod, but what made it worth it was the happy smile on Harry's face that was solely for him.

The moment Cedric sat in his own seat for lunch, he was bombarded by questions from his eager best friend.

"Did you see it, then? How did he look? Did his face really turn purple?"

Cedric backed away when he got really close. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Andras stared at him shrewdly. Then, pouting, he sat back, clearly dissatisfied. "You didn't see anything."

Raising a brow at him, he waited to be filled in. Andras wouldn't tell him anything, however, so he looked to answers from the boy sitting next to him, Étienne. "What is he on about?"

Étienne carefully wiped his mouth with his napkin, taking his sweet time until he finally replied, "Evidently, Professor Snape roundly scolded the Malfoy brat when ee made fun of Potter for the article during Potions."

"_Scolded_?" piped in Andras, sounding like this mere word weren't enough to describe what he probably thought was an epic moment. "He took points from _Slytherin!"_

Now Cedric was interested. The Potions Master _never_ deducted points from his own House. "How many points?"

"Fifteen? Twenty? That detail is being debated." Andras waved it off. "What does it matter how much? I heard he was so angry, his face was shaking and he turned _purple_!" Andras laughed. "Who turns purple?"

Étienne's expression was one of great amusement as he watched their friend. "Ee finds this particular point _très amusant_."

Cedric watched Andras as well, equally amused by how humorous he thought Professor Snape allegedly turning purple was. Though, more baffling was how the professor could accomplish such a feat considering how pale he was.

This explained why the Gryffindor had been leaving the dungeons late, and why he'd seemed so upset. But it was another thing Harry had to endure gossip about. As if the article hadn't been enough, it had to bring about all these issues along with it.

Cedric felt more protective of his charge than before. The professors were clearly defending Harry from something, to the point that they weren't reticent about doing it out in the open where others could see and possibly call them on favoritism (though he couldn't think of anyone in their right mind who would point out Professor Snape's favoritism).

He would like to know why but, even more so, he too wanted to protect Harry from whatever it was they were watching out for.

-:-

In what had become another routine along with their walk to breakfast, Cedric accompanied Harry to his rooms again after dinner Wednesday evening.

Immediately after the meal came to an end and he left the hall, he broke off from Andras and Étienne, who were headed to the Dorm, and waited for Harry to come out. He did so a minute later, his friends Weasley and Longbottom—along with Weasley's Quidditch friend and Gryffindor Chaser, Gaston Ysbarre—not far behind.

"Diggory," Weasley spoke before anything could be said, "can I talk to you a second?"

Longbottom and he exchanged looks, and then he gestured Cedric to the side, ignoring Harry's inquiries as to what he was doing. Cedric himself wanted to know, but he complied and followed the sixth year, dodging the other students still coming from the Great Hall.

Weasley and he had never been anything to each other but House Quidditch team rivals, and now that Weasley had been made captain, their rivalry would become something much more competitive. But with Harry in the equation, it seemed they had more connecting them besides Quidditch.

He just hoped Weasley didn't think to threaten him because while it might have been effective when the professors had done it, he didn't think he could ever be intimidated by a younger student. Not even one who'd grown so tall that he now stood at Cedric's own formidable height, and who probably wasn't finished growing.

The redhead proved him wrong, however, when his normally infamous temper didn't make an appearance. Instead, Weasley stuck his hand out and waited expectantly for Cedric to shake it. A little bemused by this unforeseen turn of events, Cedric grasped the Gryffindor's hand and shook it.

"Thanks for looking out for Harry," Weasley said once they released each other's hand. He ran a hand through his red hair in a sheepish manner and admitted, "I could never understand why everyone thought you were so great. I didn't think you were anything special."

"Thanks," Cedric said dryly.

Weasley gave him a crooked grin. "I get it now," he confessed. "You're all right, Diggory. Anyone who can get Harry to like them after only a day is okay in my books."

Cedric raised an inquisitive brow. "Is he usually not so accepting?"

"You have no idea," Weasley divulged, chuckling as he went back to the other sixth years.

Harry came to him the moment Weasley and the others left. "He didn't say anything untoward, did he?"

"Oh, no," Cedric said truthfully, leading the way to the grand staircase. "He only thanked me."

"For what?" asked Harry, his brows furrowed as he fell into step with him.

"For looking out for you," replied Cedric, watching the younger boy's face closely.

Harry blushed lightly and his steps faltered just before they climbed the stairs—the first time his stride was anything other than the image of elegance. Cedric stopped also, standing in front of Harry and returning his searching, unsure gaze.

"I do not want you to feel as though you're obligated to do this," Harry confided, his bangs covering his eyes when he looked down. "No matter what the others might have said to you, I would not like it if you were forced to do something you do not want to."

Cedric wondered how much of what the professors said to him Harry heard. He had been there for Professor Black's rather unabashed threat and it was possible that he had listened from the other side when Professor McGonagall had talked to him, but there was no feasible way he could have heard Professor Snape since he'd been on the other side of the hall at the time. As for the headmaster, it had been hard for Cedric himself to hear his hushed voice.

Cedric consciously fought not to reach over and reassuringly touch Harry. He knew the boy wasn't very keen on outsiders touching him, and he didn't want to presume he'd be one of the few whose touch Harry could tolerate.

He settled for as comforting a voice as he could manage, "You don't have to worry about that, Harry. I've never done anything I haven't wanted to, and I'm not about to start now."

The two were so engrossed in their discussion that they didn't notice until it was too late that a student was angrily ambling his way down the stairs. He bumped violently into Cedric and would have knocked him down had the Head Boy not been leaning against the railing.

"Watch it, Diggory!" the student who Cedric recognized as Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchley bellowed. "Now that you're Head Boy you think you rule the school?"

Cedric didn't get the chance to say anything in his defense as the large seventh year was already moving towards the dungeon stairs, but he deducted ten points from Slytherin for misconduct. Thus he didn't quite notice it when Harry left his side until he heard a muffled groan coming from the direction Bletchley had lumbered off to.

The sight that met him when he turned around was not one he would have ever imagined in a million years. Harry held a struggling Bletchley up against the wall, a look of such fierce anger on his face that would have better men than the Slytherin pissing in their pants. Cedric was so stunned he didn't make a move towards them.

Harry's lips bared in a snarl. "Apologize," he growled.

Bletchley's wild eyes shifted from Harry to Cedric. "G-get your hands off me! Are you out of your mind, Potter?"

With amazing strength that came from Merlin knows where, Harry held the larger student up even higher. He came close to his face and coldly whispered, "Apologize or I shall make you dearly regret the day you even _thought _ill of Cedric."

Then Bletchley jumped in his grasp, as though he'd been shocked by lightning. "Okay, okay!" he cried shakily. "Diggory, I'm sorry!"

Harry snarled in a disgusted manner and unceremoniously dropped the Keeper. Bletchley quickly stood to his feet and hightailed it out of there, hobbling down the dungeon staircase two at a time.

Cedric did not spare him a glance, continuing to watch Harry, whose eyes seemed to have changed color during the incident. There was an amber light in them swirling in with the emerald, glinting in a malevolent, animalistic way that froze Cedric's insides. But then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone and Cedric was beginning to think he might have imagined it.

Harry was back to his normal, mild disposition, and he was giving Cedric an inquisitive look. "Are you ready to go?"

Cedric refused to push the issue aside. He _knew _what he'd seen, and he certainly hadn't imagined it, no matter if Harry wanted to act like he had. "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?" Harry returned, the expression on his face static.

Cedric gave him an incredulous look. "Whatever you just did with Bletchley," he said slowly, as if speaking to a particularly daft child.

Harry's response was a shy smile. "Oh, that. Well, it _was _rather rude of him to lay blame on you when it was he who slammed into you." He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably when all Cedric could do was stare. After glancing at the nearest window, he said, "I'd better get back to my quarters; Sirius is expecting me."

Taking it for the cue it was, Cedric led the way up the stairs. Neither of them spoke on their stroll to Harry's rooms, Cedric because he was still contemplating what had happened and Harry because he seemed very upset—about what, Cedric could only assume.

The door to Harry's room swung open the moment they walked up to it. Professor Black's face shown from the other side, and he took one look at Harry before the happy creases gave way to worry.

"What's the matter, Harry?" he asked, and then promptly threw Cedric an accusing look.

Harry went from upset to serene in an instant. He moved closer to his godfather and the professor was quick to gather him in his arms.

Harry's voice was muffled in the professor's shoulder as he brokenly said, "I'm sorry."

Professor Black's arm hugged him closer and his hand treaded through his dark black hair, tousling it soothingly. "There's no need, cub," he murmured, the love shining in his gray eyes so immense that Cedric felt he was intruding on something special.

Without another word, he gave the two some privacy and left. Cedric would be fooling himself if he didn't admit to being very curious about what had just transpired. What was with the way Harry had so uncharacteristically handled Bletchley, and why was he dodging Cedric's questions? Why had he apologized to Professor Black, and why had the professor seemed to know exactly what Harry was talking about?

Just when he'd thought he'd gotten to know the new student, he'd been proven wrong. The more Cedric learned about Harry, the more obscurity he encountered.

* * *

Edited: 12/15/09


	3. c o n t e n t i o n

_**Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.

Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry

Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I _have _done my research.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.

**Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night  
**

3. contention_ 

-:-

_All the world's ways were altered.  
Elation waking, throbbing in your breath;  
love songs on your lips,  
dreams in your eyes;_

-:-

That Friday after Herbology, Cedric wasn't among the students who peeled out of the greenhouse the moment the bell rang. Professor Sprout held him back to discuss this year's ball.

As Head Boy, he had a personal hand in the planning of social events. He coordinated with the Hogwarts students and the Head Girl of Beauxbatons, doing everything he could to try to make it the best experience the ball could offer, especially for the seventh years. Professor Sprout informed him they would be having a Valentine's Ball this year. Last year's Yule Ball had been held at Beauxbatons so Hogwarts was hosting this year's ball.

Cedric was a bit disappointed to learn there would be a Valentine's Ball. He'd been hoping for the return of the Midsummer Ball for his last year; or, at the very least, the Masquerade Ball. Professor Sprout also gave him the name of the Beauxbatons Head Girl, Noémi Beauvais, so he could exchange letters with her. Cedric did not anticipate the following girly letters he'd probably get about how _romantic _this ball would be.

After assuring him that he could come to her, or any of the other professors, for more information or help, Professor Sprout shooed him off so as not to further delay him from lunch. Cedric was gathering up his materials when he heard the tentative but distinctive voice of Harry behind him.

"Professor Sprout?"

Cedric turned to see the Gryffindor lingering uncertainly in the doorway, which he found rather odd. While Harry wasn't very lively when it came to other people, he wasn't all that shy, either. He was reserved and withdrawn more than anything else.

"Mr. Potter, come in, come in; no need to be shy." Professor Sprout waved him in.

Harry looked as though that was the last of his problems, but he stepped in anyway. He gave himself and the professor as much distance as he could afford as he handed her a folder with a small stack of parchments in it. "I have finished the work you've assigned me, ma'am," he said in such a rigid manner that Cedric thought all the progress he'd made had come undone.

His Head of House did not seem as though she were alarmed by this behavior, so she must not have been met with anything different from Harry. She did, however, appear surprised at Harry's words.

"Already?" she asked in wonder, taking the proffered papers from the sixth year. She gave Harry a concerned glance. "I don't want you to feel as though you have to hand it in so soon, dear. You can have more time should you need it."

Harry was flustered, Cedric noticed—and highly uncomfortable, too. He rubbed the back of his neck in a fairly teenage-like way and murmured, "Thank you, ma'am, but I have no need of more time. I have completed the assignments to the best of my capabilities."

Professor Sprout's expression was that of someone who'd just been struck by a thought. She was apologetic as she said, "Oh, dear, I didn't mean to say your efforts were poor."

Harry, if possible, became even more discomfited. "I presumed no such thing, professor," he fumbled, cheeks reddening a little.

Cedric himself was beginning to feel self-conscious by all this awkwardness. A woman who carefully treaded around people's feelings like Professor Sprout did and an ill at ease Harry in the same room wasn't a situation conducive to productive exchange.

He quickly walked forward and made his presence known before any more of this could persist. Harry looked to him and settled down almost immediately and the professor seemed relieved to have him come to the rescue, which was understandable as she probably thought she was making a fool of herself.

He unnecessarily announced, "Well, I'll be off then, professor. I've already missed enough of lunch as it is." He glanced inquiringly at Harry, "Coming, Harry?"

Professor Sprout latched onto the opportunity. "Yes, no need to further delay you from your meal, boys," she said. "Off you go, then."

Harry bid her a soft farewell and swiftly followed Cedric out of the greenhouse. Cedric kept in his chuckle at the amount of relief that flashed across his face once they were outside. He hadn't known it pained him that much to be in the Herbology instructor's presence, though why it did was a mystery in itself.

"What was that about?" Cedric asked as they trekked their way from the back of the castle.

Harry grimaced at the reminder of his unease. "The professors have given me the work I need to make up for the nine days of class that I've missed," he explained. He shrugged, adding, "I was already outside for Care of Magical Creatures so I thought I'd drop off my Herbology assignments."

It'd never crossed Cedric's mind that Harry would be required to make up the work he'd missed. If forced to think about it, he would have wagered that the professors—or, at the very least, the headmaster—would waive him of that task.

"When did Professor Sprout give it you?" Cedric wondered, curious to know why the professor had sounded so surprised that the Gryffindor was finished.

"Yesterday," replied Harry, "when I first had her class."

Of course, it would have amazed Professor Sprout if he'd finished nine days' worth of work in a single day, especially as he'd had other classes to make up in. But Harry obviously didn't see the significance of it.

"No wonder she was surprised, then," Cedric put in.

"Despite the nine days I've missed, there were only three essays," Harry pointed out. "It was relatively easy. I'm not as natural as Neville, but Herbology is a bit of a specialty of mine."

_Along with everything else_, Cedric silently added, amused.

They made it around the castle in companionable silence and went straight to the Great Hall once they entered. By the sounds coming from the hall as they got closer, it seemed lunch was fully underway.

A voice set itself apart from theirs and the ones coming from the hall. "All right, Diggory?"

Cedric did not even need to turn around to identify the owner of that voice. As such, he carried on walking, acting like he hadn't heard, hoping to avoid what he knew without doubt would be coming. Harry did halt and look behind them, though, and Cedric was forced to as well. The boy rapidly making a name for himself as the current bane of his existence, Roger Davies, was striding behind them, accompanied by the spiky-haired Ravenclaw Chaser Reese Bradley.

Davies came to a stop before them, giving Harry a look Cedric didn't particularly care for. "This the great Harry Potter?"

Cedric was pleasantly surprised to see Harry's eyes narrow. He'd never seen him become so quickly leery of someone. Granted, he'd not known him for long, but Harry's cool façade refused to falter even before the overtly belligerent Draco Malfoy.

"And you are?" Harry asked, an edge to his voice that hinted he couldn't care less and he'd be happier never knowing the other.

Davies' tone was much the same. "Roger Davies."

"Pleasure, I'm sure."

"Likewise."

Even Bradley appeared astounded by how fast the animosity had built between the two. It was as though they'd already had a rotten encounter and immediately decided they didn't like one another. But Cedric was sure that weren't the case. He—and the rest of the school—would have heard of such a thing happening, as he tended to everything else that involved Harry.

The Ravenclaw seventh-year and the Gryffindor sixth-year continued to eye one another with barely hidden displeasure, the expressions on their face equivalent to the type one might wear if a pestiferous rat were underfoot. There was also a disturbing glint to Harry's emerald eyes that Cedric had a hard time distinguishing, but was sure meant nothing good. It was reminiscent of one he'd glimpsed before but couldn't quite place.

Davies glanced away first, turning his sapphire eyes on Cedric. "Heard from Cho lately?" he asked, smirking in a way that he probably thought looked daunting.

Cedric, unimpressed, coldly informed, "If I had, I'm sure that'd be none of your business."

For some reason, this made Davies happy. "That's a no, then?" he confirmed, his smug little smirk still plastered on. "That's what I thought."

Next to him, Bradley sighed loudly. "Mate, I'm bloody hungry. You can stick around out here, but I'm going in," he proclaimed. Without waiting for a reply, he left them.

Davies rolled his eyes at him. "See ya, Diggory. Potter," he added frigidly. He took his friend's cue and deliberately brushed past Cedric on his way, who only held himself back because he was too busy trying to keep the git from meeting the end of Harry's speedily drawn wand. Oblivious to the no doubt dangerous fate he'd avoided thanks to Cedric, Davies strolled on.

Cedric grasped Harry's face in his hands, meeting eyes blazing with anger for _him. _It probably shouldn't have made him feel so excited to have Harry look murderous on his behalf. "Hey, it's all right. Davies isn't worth it. He's just dying for attention."

Harry gazed up into his eyes, and it didn't take long for him to calm down. Cedric's thumb moved across his cheek of its own accord, and he didn't realize he was doing it until Harry's cheeks became warm and he flushed a bright pink. Now blushing lightly himself, Cedric removed his hands and turned away, hoping he hadn't been spotted.

They finally got to the Great Hall for lunch after much hindrance, which was apparently a cause for interest for everyone as they were met with eyes. They didn't usually come together during lunch so it was understandable. Harry was certainly getting better at ignoring it, though; he didn't seem at all fazed by the whispers and staring. Not even Miles Bletchley's sneered "Here come Diggory and his pet boy Potter." earned his notice. Cedric, however, had to restrain himself upon hearing that.

He supposed it was inevitable that the other students notice that, besides Weasley and Longbottom, he was the closest to Harry. They weren't the only ones who that was clear to, though. The professors who'd warned him to keep Harry safe had shown their approval in their own way. Just today, Professor Black had given him a never-before-earned pat on the back as he'd left his classroom.

But, most shocking of all had been Professor Snape's complimentary smile and nod when he'd escorted Harry to breakfast this morning. (It hadn't really been a smile, just a twitch of the lips. But for Professor Snape, it might as well have been a grin.) That had almost given Cedric an aneurysm on the spot.

"What did Sprout want from you?" Andras asked as Cedric was taking a seat next to him.

"She wanted to talk to me about the ball," replied Cedric without really thinking about what impact his words would have.

Instantly, all the boys around them had their eyes eagerly focused in on him.

Andras shuffled closer to him. "So you know what we're having this year?" he inquired excitedly.

Cedric kept his expression blank. "Yes."

There was expectant silence at their end. The boys stared at him, meals forgotten in their impatience.

Ramon Hervé was the first to lose it. "Well? What is it?"

"Please tell me it's a Masquerade," pleaded Andras.

"Masquerade? No way; Midsummer is the best," argued Kaelen.

"Will you let 'im answer?" Étienne rolled his eyes at them, which had the effect of getting their full attention back on Cedric.

Cedric shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll just have to find out with everyone else, boys."

"What!" Andras exclaimed, and then proceeded to try to get him to disclose by giving him his best kicked-puppy-dog look. When Cedric remained unmoved, he pouted disappointedly. "What's the fun of having a friend who's Head Boy if he's going to be stingy about information?"

Daniel scowled at him. "I'm gonna have to go with him on this one," he agreed.

"Why's that? Already thinking about asking your _beloved _Susan Bones?" Cedric teased, enjoying the slight flush on the customarily cool boy.

"What're you talking about? We only went to Yule together," he grumbled embarrassedly, refusing to meet anyone's eye.

Blake snickered. "Yeah right. You were falling all over yourself for months after that."

"I was not," Daniel countered indignantly. "You're exaggerating things."

Andras hummed thoughtfully. "Can't really blame you there, mate. That Susan Bones is one fine piece of—"

"You shut up about her, Summers!" Daniel's bellow sent them all roaring with laughter. Sufficiently distracted, they began to mercilessly taunt the Chaser about his year-long Beauxbatons crush.

"You know, you cannot distract _me _so easily," Étienne whispered into his ear.

Cedric glanced at the French boy sitting to his left and raised a dubious brow. "I don't know what you mean."

Étienne gave him a smirk Cedric was sure he'd picked up from his Slytherin boyfriend. It was unnerving how many Slytherin-like traits he'd been adopting lately. "I notice you were awfully late in getting 'ere," he mused. "Surely, it does not take that long to discuss the ball, or to walk from the green'ouses. I also cannot 'elp noticing that the insufferable Roger Davies was seconds before you in coming in. I wonder if you 'ave not 'ad another run-in with 'im."

Cedric frowned at him. Étienne was too discerning for his own good. No wonder he seemed to always be making something out of nothing. He especially had a fondness for analyzing Davies' behavior around him. Cedric did not understand his need to make it more complicated than it really was.

Davies liked Cho, Cho liked Cedric instead, and Davies was insanely jealous about the fact. The end. Plain and simple.

"Nothing new for you to dissect," Cedric informed, "—to your eternal disappointment, I'm sure."

Étienne chuckled. "_Au contraire, mon ami_. This continued be'avior only convinces me even further of what I 'ave already suspected."

"And that is?"

The French boy patronizingly patted his shoulder. "You shall soon find out for yourself, my dear friend. Until then, you may remain blissfully ignorant."

Cedric almost rolled his eyes at him. "Sometimes, I think you're a Slytherin in disguise," he said instead.

That, of course, appeared to amuse Étienne. "Oh, if only I were so unfortunate," he laughed. He added in an affronted tone, "Green would clash 'orribly with my eyes."

"Your eyes are blue," Cedric reminded him. "There are plenty blue-eyed Slytherins."

"And don't their ties look absolutely unflattering next to that?" Étienne asked, as though Cedric had proven his point. "I would just _die _if I 'ad to put up with that on a daily basis."

The comment was too ridiculous for Cedric _not _to laugh at. Étienne could be so stereotypically gay sometimes.

-:-

Saturday came, and with it the first Quidditch practice Cedric had scheduled. It wasn't the official beginning of the season so he'd booked the pitch for after breakfast, and only for two hours at that. He didn't quite think he could stand the presence of the third Chaser, Zacharias Smith, for much longer than that anyway.

Cedric had discussed his plans for the day with Harry during their walk to breakfast, and had been surprised when the younger boy had asked if he could watch them. There had been a fascinated spark in his eyes that had been impossible for Cedric to intentionally distinguish, which had led to his almost instant agreement.

He hadn't realized Harry was so into Quidditch, though the Gryffindor admitted to not being much of a player himself. But he'd excitedly gone on about his favorite team in the league, the Pride of Portree. That had led to a long conversation in where they'd compared Harry's favorite team against Cedric's own, the Falmouth Falcons.

Harry had been rather passionate in their discussion, which had both pleased and startled Cedric. He was happy to learn he had something in common with the sixth year when he'd thought they shared nothing.

Despite all that, it was inexcusable for him to have overlooked what the reactions of his teammates would be to the presence of one from a rival House bearing witness to their practice. He should not have let his Harry-induced enthusiasm make him careless.

"What's _he _doing here?" Smith asked harshly the moment Cedric walked out onto the pitch, Harry right behind him.

Cedric glanced at the rest of the collected players who were all eyeing Harry with much the same unwelcome expression on their faces. Smith's was the worst, but he was not alone in trying to banish Harry from the field with his gaze. Cedric could practically feel Harry's distress at his back.

Feeling uneasy himself, Cedric explained his presence, "I thought he could just watch us for a bit."

Their new, fairly large-for-a-second-year Beater, Jermaine Gennevois, raised an incredulous brow at him. "Are you mad? Ee's a Gryff!" he yelled, as though that made Harry some kind of leper.

"And he's friends with Weasley," Smith put in, looking at the Gryffindor accusingly. "What's to say he won't run and tell him everything he sees here?"

"He wouldn't do that," defended Cedric.

Harry stepped forward and spoke up before any more words could be exchanged. "It's all right, Cedric," he said softly. "If they do not want for me to see this, then I shall respect their wishes. I understand where they are coming from."

To Cedric, it didn't look like it was all right. He could tell Harry was disappointed, but there was really nothing Cedric could do. Even if he was the captain, he could not disregard his teammates' comments. Had any of them brought friends from another House to their practice, he'd have been upset, too.

Daniel stared at Harry's dejected form for a moment and announced, "I believe him."

Lythan Cadwallader nodded his head. "Me too. I say let him stick around."

The Keeper, fifth-year Delmar Prevost, shrugged. "Whatever. Eet is no concern of mine."

"What? Are you lot out of your mind?" Smith cried, looking around at the rest of the team as they one by one were inadvertently charmed by Harry. "What part of '_He's a Gryffindor' _do you not understand?"

Daniel curled his lip in distaste at his younger Housemate. He mounted his broom, and told him, "I just wanna play. Can we get on with it or are you going to delay us some more?"

Cedric muffled his laughter. Daniel was awesome. Harry was looking a lot happier now thanks to him, and the team was following in his wake and deciding to move on from the problem. With a fierce scowl directed at the cause of his current displeasure, Smith too climbed onto his broom and took to the air. Harry, of course, was wholly unperturbed by the other sixth year.

"You can sit over there," Cedric suggested, pointing with his broom at the stands. "If you don't want to stay for the whole two hours, you can leave at any time."

Harry smile could almost be called wide. "I'm sure I'll want to stay for the whole thing."

Cedric hoped his answering smile wasn't as dopey as he suspected it to be. He joined his team in the air after telling Harry he would see him later. He didn't expect the Gryffindor to sit in the Hufflepuff stands, though it certainly warmed him to see him there, red and gold sticking out among a décor of only yellow and black.

Perhaps it was Harry's presence, but Cedric found himself conducting the practice as though it were the final one before the day of a match. He worked the three new players—the two Beaters Gennevois and Lamar Hureaulx, and, especially, the Chaser Smith—harder than he'd ever done in his two years as captain. While Smith proved difficult to work with—surprise, surprise—even he soon found out that he couldn't take advantage of Cedric's patience and kindness as the older boy refused to tolerate his posturing.

Towards the end of practice, Cedric had them play a mock Quidditch game where all of their skills could be utilized in a team effort. He'd been drilling that so much into them today that he hoped they understood the importance of team effort, particularly Zacharias Smith, who seemed to be making it his goal to commandeer the Quaffle as much as he possibly could.

So focused was he on monitoring his teammates and finding the Snitch that Cedric didn't glance in Harry's direction for the past fifteen minutes. Realizing this, he looked down and noted that someone else had joined him in the stands. From his position, all he could see was a small speck. He got closer and his mood took an immediate nosedive when he identified the tall, dark-haired student as Roger Davies.

Harry was standing up now and having an apparent staring contest with the Ravenclaw. Remembering the instantaneous hostility that had erupted between the two, he kept a close watch on what was happening. Davies didn't seem to be doing anything visibly aggressive, unless one counted that infuriating expression of haughtiness on his face as he, most likely, talked down to Harry. Either that or he was badmouthing Cedric, which made more sense since Harry didn't get that mad about what was said about him as much as he did for Cedric's sake.

Feeling something hot and fierce burning in the pit of his stomach at the sight, Cedric flew closer to get rid of the Ravenclaw, and finally set things straight. He was damn tired of Davies taking his lack of retaliation to mean that he'd allow the other to walk all over him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Davies?" he bellowed, speeding up as he came closer. Both the occupants of the stand looked up at the sound.

Cedric saw Harry's eyes widen before it all happened. Then he opened his mouth and screamed in horror, "CEDRIC!" Several other voices joined his, but he didn't hear anything they said.

All he could register for a moment was absolute pain, the worst, most excruciating pain he'd ever felt in his entire life. The feel of his ribs fracturing was most poignant of all. His breath left him, and he felt as though his stomach had jumped into his throat, and his heart dropped to his feet, and all the blood rushed straight to his head, and there was only pain_pain_pain.

Then he was falling, and trying to grasp at consciousness or coherence. But the only thing he could comprehend at that point was that the cause of all this was the Bludger practically molded in his abdomen.

And then nothing but blackness and a blissful reprieve from pain.

-:-

A row of worried faces greeted him when Cedric next opened his gray eyes. The team and some of his friends stood around the bed upon which he was most uncomfortably ensconced. Uncomfortable because the minute he tried to move in the bundle of sheets, a shooting pain cut across him from the side of his rib. He hissed loudly and kept still.

Harry made himself known among the crowd when he called, "He's awake, Madam Pomfrey."

The Hogwarts matron came over so quickly that it was as if she'd materialized before him. She pulled out her wand and waved it to cast what Cedric assumed was a diagnostic spell. She chattered away about how the Bludger had broken several of his ribs and that she'd mended them—no problem—but he'd have to stay here for a few days to recuperate since the pain must still be fresh.

He didn't much listen to her admonitions about the dangerous sport of Quidditch, and how exasperated she was becoming because all these reckless boys seemed to be doing was setting themselves up for injury.

"You're fortunate Mr. Potter was there to slow your fall or you'd have to be contending with quite the headache from the consequent broken skull," was all he caught as she administered a small amount of a purple potion he recognized as Dreamless Sleep.

Cedric's gaze met that of Harry's very worried one, and he couldn't even find the voice to thank him. He settled for a smile, and immediately thereafter drifted off to a chorus of relieved words from the people gathered around him.

The rest of the day, Cedric fell in and out of consciousness. One such time, he awoke to Harry and, of all people, Étienne amiably playing wizard's chess while Andras provided conversation in the background. Harry had noticed him right away and alerted Étienne and Andras by coming to his side.

Étienne proceeded to try to shove a whole day's worth of food down his throat, the sight of which almost caused Cedric to retch all over the bed. Harry had gotten the overly concerned French boy off his case, and convinced them to help Cedric to the toilet, which, upon mention, seemed to be just what he needed at the time.

When he next awoke, Étienne and Andras were gone, but Harry had been joined by his godfather, who seemed to be regaling him with some story. Upon spotting he was awake, Madam Pomfrey had demanded that he at least eat something. By then, Cedric's stomach had decided it was safe enough to eat. He had to suffer through the embarrassment of needing Harry to make his food easily accessible so he didn't exacerbate his injury too much. What made it worse was Professor Black watching on with something Cedric interpreted as amusement.

It was nightfall the final time Cedric roused. The searing pain in his ribs had reduced to a dull ache, but he still felt terribly tired, like he could sleep for days. The hospital wing was dark and silent so he couldn't pinpoint precisely what had awoken him this time.

A small gust of air brushed his hand and he glanced down to see that he'd failed to detect Harry's head resting on the space available beside his bed. He was in a deep sleep as evidenced by the way he was softly breathing and remained unmoving, though he couldn't have been comfortable in that chair.

Stirred by the sight, Cedric watched him while he slept, once again struck by how utterly beautiful Harry was, especially in his sleep when his face was clear of any expression that might mar this peaceful serenity. The dim moonlight cascading off the walls enveloped him in its heavenly glow.

Cedric reached to touch his head, captivated by the sheen of his silky black hair. He caressed from the tip of his nape, treaded his fingers through the soft curls of his bangs, and came to a stop when his gaze fell on the mark etched onto his forehead. The infamous lightning bolt-shaped scar. Seeing it somehow made the experience Harry had gone through seem that much more real. He'd only heard stories of it, but the full impact of who Harry really was and what hand he'd had in saving the world from a madman was finally starting to hit Cedric.

He'd begun to forget that Harry was anyone but a boy who'd grown to become someone he would consider a close friend, a socially awkward boy who'd latched onto the first person to show him kindness in an unknown environment. This was the Boy Who Lived, an intelligent, capable boy who showed signs of having a great amount of power at his disposal, whose emotions were hard to predict and even harder to decipher.

But, for Cedric, all that was overshadowed by the boy sitting here beside him, sleeping in that awful stiff chair, keeping vigil by his side all night. The boy who'd been there every time Cedric had opened his eyes, who'd spent the entire day making sure he didn't want for anything, and who'd not left his side even once.

And, just like that, he fell back into a dreamless sleep, drifting off to the sound of Harry's soft breathing and the feel of his yet softer hair under Cedric's hand.

* * *

Edited: 2/3/10


	4. a n i m u s

_**Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.

Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry

Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I _have _done my research.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.

**Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night**

4. animus_ 

-:-

_In your dreams all these past moments  
when someone came, and I recognized him  
(as my own)_

-:-

After two days of being confined to the infirmary, Cedric was glad to finally get discharged on Monday.

He'd felt better yesterday, but Madam Pomfrey had refused to let him leave. While it was frustrating to have to stay in bed the whole day, he'd had plenty of company to keep him occupied. Besides his friends, Harry had visited every hour, much to Weasley's dismay when he'd reluctantly tagged along once before the two were to hang out (or so he was given to understand).

Cedric woke up bright and early so he could slip out before Madam Pomfrey had a chance to change her mind. He was in the process of changing into the fresh uniform Andras and Étienne had brought him yesterday when he heard a sound at the entrance.

Roger Davies stood tentatively at the door, looking at Cedric with an unidentifiable emotion. Cedric himself was shocked that the Ravenclaw had come, though he doubted it was out of worry for him. Merlin help him if Davies thought he could just waltz in here and goad him with his useless taunts.

But the expression on the seventh year's face didn't match his usual one. It was uncertain and maybe even slightly miserable-looking. Cedric kept quiet, watching and waiting for him to say what the boy obviously had come to say.

"Look, Diggory," he started, voice uncharacteristically soft, "I didn't mean for—"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

At the cold voice, Cedric looked behind Davies at the same time the boy swiveled around. Standing there, looking more outraged than he'd ever been, was Harry, his brows arched angrily over his madly glinting eyes. His fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles completely white, and his whole body shook with such fierce rage that Cedric felt as though the hospital wing itself was shaking along with him. Absurdly, all Cedric could think at the moment was that he'd _never _heard the polite boy use such foul language.

Davies stepped away from him nervously. "I just came here to—"

Harry moved swiftly past him and stood before Cedric as if to guard him. "You _dare_…" his voice cut off, rough with rage.

Oddly, this seemed to be him trying to get himself under control. Cedric could feel Harry's magic—searing and overwhelming—blazing at the surface, itching for release. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end at the crushing force.

Then, with a burning intensity, it came out in waves, honing in on the boy across the room, and attacking him with a deafening _whoosh _sound. Davies was knocked off his feet and blasted clear out of the infirmary so fast that he didn't even have a chance to scream. There was a noise like a bang, a groan followed, and then nothing but Harry's deep breaths and Cedric's stunned silence.

Harry turned to face him, eyes glowing a fiery amber-red. Or so Cedric thought, but when he blinked the next moment, he was staring back into the green they had always been. The Gryffindor's current expression wasn't anything out of the ordinary either, only a gentle countenance and a concerned look directed at Cedric as he inquired after his health, which he'd been doing every visit.

Cedric was too speechless to respond. He took a moment to gather his wits about him before asking, "Is he going to be okay?"

Harry raised a quizzical brow. Then he frowned and said, "You mean Davies?" He glanced back at the Ravenclaw sprawled out on the floor outside the hospital wing; he was quite obviously unconscious. Turning back to look at Cedric with an angry scowl, Harry dryly said, "Unfortunately, yes."

Astounded, Cedric silently went back to his bed to continue dressing. He couldn't believe Harry could be so blasé about what he'd just done. Didn't he care at all that he could have seriously hurt Davies? The boy wasn't exactly on Cedric's list of favorites either, but that didn't mean he wanted to inflict bodily harm on him. This was the second time Harry had shown a side to him that was very unlike his customary one—a dangerous, unpredictable side.

Closing the curtains around his bed, Cedric stripped out of his hospital gown, glad to finally be rid of it, and grabbed his discarded shirt to pull on. Hoping to get an answer this time but having his doubts, he plunged ahead with the question anyway, "Why did you do that to Davies?"

A short silence followed the query before Harry's rigid voice came from behind the drapes. "I didn't much care for his audacity," he said, and then brusquely added, "To presume he can come in here and speak to you when it was _his _fault you came to harm in the first place is utterly _galling._"

"How do you figure that?" Cedric asked dubiously. "I'm in here because of the Bludger."

Harry huffed exasperatedly, as if the mere reminder of the incident infuriated him. "Yes, but the only reason that happened was because Davies' presence distracted you," he explained.

Cedric certainly hadn't thought of it like that, but he could see where Harry was coming from. Still, that didn't mean he agreed with him. Maybe the whole thing could have been avoided had Davies not been there, but the same could be said of his lack of regard for his surroundings.

The sound of Harry's once again flowing voice brought his attention back to his companion as he announced, "I'll leave you to your preparation, Cedric. I shall see you later."

Cedric shrugged on his robes and pushed the drapes aside to tell him that wouldn't be necessary but the infirmary was already empty. A bit put out, he wondered if Harry had become cross with him and his refusal to completely acknowledge Davies as the bad guy here. Or perhaps he'd gotten as upset as he had the last time he'd gotten this mad and left to seek out the company of his godfather.

Figuring he'd talk to Harry about it later, he walked over to Davies' supine form. Though he wanted to see if the Ravenclaw was all right, he didn't want to stick around for his reaction to what had transpired. He had no doubt it would be very bad.

Cedric settled with _Rennervating_ him and quickly made himself scarce before Davies fully came around. If the enmity between Harry and Davies had been bad before, he was sure it was about to get ten times worse.

-:-

Between students welcoming him back and a Potions class spent avoiding Davies' direct gaze, Cedric's decision to talk to Harry had left his mind. So when Harry asked to speak to him in the courtyard between classes, Cedric was too busy reassuring him like a lovesick fool instead of questioning him as he'd planned to do.

Harry led him to a bench against the stone wall that was surrounded by shrubs and had a small tree behind it. "I want to apologize for this morning," he began when they were both seated. "I did not mean to offend you."

"What are you apologizing for?" Cedric asked, raising a brow at him. Had he given Davies the same courtesy? "You haven't done anything to me."

"You were clearly upset about what happened, and I rudely brushed aside your concerns," explained Harry. "For that, I am sorry."

Cedric looked at him closely. The Gryffindor's expression was drawn and, though he probably meant his apology to Cedric (even if Cedric himself didn't understand it), it was obvious he wasn't going to be taking back what he'd done to Davies anytime soon.

For some reason, he couldn't find it within himself to be disturbed by the fact that Harry regretted something as trivial as offending Cedric's sensibilities, but refused to show remorse for hurting another student. This morning, he'd found it disconcerting; but now, faced with Harry's contrite visage, it seemed like a thing of the past.

Putting a comforting hand on the younger boy's shoulder, he said, "It's no problem, Harry. You don't have to apologize for that." Cedric felt the unbearable heat radiating off from the skin underneath the clothes, and warmth traveled up and down his hand.

Harry gave him a soft smile. "Thank you."

"Oh, isn't this cute? Warms my old heart." Both boys looked up to see the Defense instructor smiling patronizingly down at them. "Hello, boys."

Harry flushed and Cedric hastily removed his hand from the boy's shoulder when the man stared pointedly at it. He trained his eye instead on the unsealed envelope the professor had in his hand and, by the broken seal, identified it as one from the Ministry.

"Hope you aren't too busy to hear some good news, Harry," Professor Black teased, putting way too much emphasis on _busy _for Cedric's liking. He waved the envelope in his hand. "Finally got your O.W.L. results."

Harry's eyes alighted eagerly on the letter. "Yeah? How did I do?"

Professor Black slipped the letter out of the envelope and held it out for him. "See for yourself," he said with a wide grin.

Harry grabbed the letter and keenly looked it over. Cedric didn't have to sate his curiosity by looking on or asking him about it as the professor began commenting on it before Harry was done.

"All perfect—not that anyone's surprised, mind," he put in, voice full of pride. He sighed wistfully. "Remus would be so proud of you if he saw your scores."

Harry's head snapped up to look at the professor, though the man himself didn't notice and continued to talk. To say Harry's face glowed at the praise would be a complete understatement. Cedric had never seen him looking happier than he did at that moment.

"Really?" the sixth year asked softly. "Do you really think that?"

Professor Black paused in his speech to glance down at his now hopefully attentive godson. He smiled softly. "Yes, I do."

Harry's answering smile seriously looked as if it could split his face. Cedric was taken aback at all the emotions coming off from him.

Still smiling softly, Professor Black held out his hand for Harry to grasp, saying, "Come on, James and Lily want to congratulate you."

Harry frowned and glanced over at Cedric uncertainly. "I don't think there's time for that. Can't I do that later?" he asked, though he didn't protest when his godfather took his hand anyway and dragged him up.

"It won't take long," the professor assured. "You have my class next anyhow so come along."

As Professor Black pulled him along back into the school, Harry didn't have much time to say anything except a hurriedly cried out, "Um, I'll see you later, Cedric." Cedric called a good bye and returned his tentative wave.

What was that about? Who was this 'Remus,' and why had the mere mention of his name brought such a glow as he'd never seen to Harry's face? He'd been happier about the simple insinuation that this person would be proud of him than the pride clearly written all over his godfather's face.

The students milling about the courtyard began to leave one at a time as the break was coming to a close. Cedric stood to join in heading back inside, and spend his free period holed up in the library working on the vicious essay Professor Snape had assigned them.

While he tried his best to busy himself with other things, at the back of his mind, the questions remained. Harry continued to be an enigma to him, and Cedric's thirst to know more and _everything _about him only seemed to grow.

He didn't know what to do now that every waking moment was filled with thoughts of Harry, but it was beginning to become quite overwhelming. And pretty soon, like Harry's magic, it would prove to be too much and burst out of him. It was only a matter of time before standing by became too much to bear and just watching became _not enough_ and these feelings transformed into actions.

He only hoped he didn't end up scaring away Harry.

-:-

Cedric's ears were assaulted by the sound of loud chatter the moment he opened the doors to the Great Hall. Dinner at Hogwarts was by no means a quiet affair, but it usually didn't get this loud. That could only mean one thing: new gossip for the masses to feed on.

It didn't take much to figure out what had captivated their feeble minds this time. And he wasn't at all surprised when the subject of this round of gossip turned out to be their latest favorite.

As he was passing the Slytherin and Ravenclaw table, he heard bits and pieces.

"He's really been given a room of his own?"

"Oh, what do you expect? Nothing but the best for _Prince _Potter." That was Malfoy's scathing voice. "Coddled like a fucking baby; they'll say going to _class _won't be safe enough for him soon. Why he's even bothered to show up for school is beyond me."

"Louis tells me ee 'asn't seen 'im going into the dorms at all."

"But he's visited the tower, hasn't he?"

"_Mais oui_. Plenty of times."

"Where do you reckon he sleeps then?"

"Eh, _je ne sais pas._"

Much the same was being discussed at the Hufflepuff table, and he could make out that it was no different at the Gryffindor one.

Cedric couldn't tell what had brought this on, but he was a little amazed that it had taken the students this long to figure it out. It was Harry's eleventh day in Gryffindor House and they were only now finding out that he didn't sleep in the tower with his Housemates. Though, to be fair, his rooms weren't that far from the tower and only the Gryffindors would know such a thing.

He was glad to see that Harry hadn't come yet, and didn't have to be subjected to this.

"Shut your fat gob, Vigneron!"

The whole hall's attention was directed at a suddenly furious Ron Weasley, who was now standing. He glared menacingly at the boy across from him and, though he only saw the back of his head, Cedric assumed it to be his fellow sixth year, Louis Vigneron. It was evident he'd been the one to facilitate the rumors.

"I'm bloody tired of you making up this shit," Weasley snapped, his fists clenched as though he were refraining from punching Vigneron. "There's nothing _unsafe _about Gryffindor, and you need to stop instigating these stupid rumors."

Vigneron brazenly retorted in a drawling voice, "Then why does ee not stay in the tower with the rest of us lowly people?"

The room was silent in anticipation of what Weasley would say to that. Probably didn't want to miss his answer in case he revealed what they all wanted to know.

If possible, Weasley turned even more red than he had been. He took a deep breath and replied through gritted teeth, "He's not used to having so many people around him; you can't imagine he'd be comfortable sharing a room with four other boys. Not that it's any of your damn business;" he splayed his hands out on the table and leaned forward to snarl at the French boy, "and it's going to stay that way."

Professor McGonagall's stern voice cut across the silence that continued to encompass the hall, "Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley. Your crude language will not be tolerated."

Weasley didn't seem to care one whit about the points lost. He nodded at the professor and sat with a complacent air about him, bestowing his French year mate with a final nasty glare. Gradually, the noise picked back up in the hall, doubtless filled with talk about what Weasley had just revealed.

The students hadn't been the only ones to learn something new. Cedric himself, who knew more about Harry than the rest of them, had thought generally along the same lines as they had. He hadn't realized Harry's change in rooms had been something as cut and dry as him being uncomfortable around too many people. Though, now that he thought about it, he could see how that would be the case; Harry _was _uneasy around crowds and strangers.

The subject of his thoughts and the current rumors finally showed up for dinner. But Harry didn't seem to notice the eyes that turned on him as he was too busy talking to the person he'd come in with, the seventh-year Gryffindor Seeker.

Cedric felt his heart constrict at the sight of Harry's smile, at the light blush gracing his face, at the delighted laughter in his eyes—caused by _him_, Arsène Savoy with his perfect lean Seeker's body, striking gray-green eyes, slick layered dark brown hair, and seductive, curving smile.

And Cedric had never hated anyone as much as he did the French boy at that very moment. It was irrational and inexplicable, but he felt it so strongly that he almost choked with the abrupt white, hot mixture of fury and jealousy that consumed him. _He'd _never had Harry so wrapped up in him that he failed to notice the entire hall's attention on him.

Then Harry's eyes sought him out and lit up brilliantly, and the inferno within Cedric was immediately extinguished. He returned Harry's smile, beginning to feel a tad ashamed of his excessive reaction to the sight of him just _talking _to another boy. What the hell was wrong with him? Even so, he couldn't look away, and still wanted to get Savoy as far away from Harry as possible.

Andras chuckling beside him made him look away from the scene that was now burned into his retinas. He leaned in and murmured, "Admit it already. You have it seriously hard up for Harry."

Cedric glanced at him and raised a brow. "Harry? What happened to Potter?"

His friend shrugged. "Well, we had a chance to talk while you were out taking a vacation—"

"A vacation? Is that what we're calling it?"

"—and you were right, mate, he's easy to get along with. Bloke's real generous with his name, told me right off not to bother with that Potter nonsense. And don't change the subject." Andras smiled smugly and waved his half-bitten pickle at him as if to say "I'm onto you."

Cedric summarily ignored what he was pointing out. Merlin, if Andras, of all people, had noticed, it wouldn't be long until others did—or already had. Then it was pretty given that Harry already knew, too.

He supposed he hadn't been exactly all that secretive about it, but he'd hoped that he could put off the inevitable until Harry was ready for it. It seemed, however, that his feelings would come out into the open sooner than he'd thought.

The only thing that remained to be seen was whether Harry reciprocated them like he suspected—_hoped_—he did.

* * *

In case anyone has the urge to correct me, I know I wrote _Rennervate _instead of _Ennervate._ JKR officially renamed the spell in a Goblet of Fire text edit. But I'd love to know if you see any other mistakes.

* * *

Edited: 2/3/10


	5. é l a n

_**Like Luminescent Dawn from the Shade of Night -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Summary: Cedric just wants to know what the big fuss is about the new student but gets more than he bargained for: love…and a closely guarded secret of such great import that, if let out, could plunge the wizarding world into chaos.

Warnings: AU; slash; Powerful/Dark!Harry

Spoilers: Information from all seven books. However, know that everything changed was done so consciously, and is not a mistake on my part; I _have _done my research.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything associated with it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The song "Breathless" is borrowed from Shankar Mahadevan, used here in the story's title and the lyrics below. The song "Tu Hi To Meri Dost Hain" is written by Gulzar, used here for Part I's title.

**Part I. The Moonlight Often Hums in the Night **

5. élan _ 

-:-

_This someone settled into my heart;  
how can I explain to you  
how I found him?_

-:-

If Cedric had been aware of the chain of events that would lead to what happened on the last day of the month, he'd have approached the coming days with a much different attitude.

It all started on the Wednesday of the same week he'd been discharged from the infirmary. While conversing with his friends during the break between classes, a fifth-year fellow Hufflepuff asked to speak to him, and proceeded to pull him aside. Intrigued, Cedric agreed and followed him.

As it was chilly outside due to the downpour they'd received the night before, most of the students stayed within the galleries, standing against the walls and as far from the arches as they could get while still not being inside the castle. The boy, however, led him just outside of that, where they weren't shielded by the relative warmth of the castle, but still weren't exposed to the wet grass and the trees that were even now dripping water from their slowly color-changing leaves.

Once they'd stopped walking, the boy looked around to see if they had complete privacy, and Cedric couldn't help being even more intrigued about what he had to say. He didn't know the fairly tall fifth year beyond a vague recollection of him as the younger brother of a graduated student—the Keeper from three years ago, Garrett Eastman.

He recognized his face, but was having a hard time recalling his name. It was something like Gale—Galvin?—Gavin? He really couldn't conjure up a name to match the face, so he gave it a rest and silently, curiously waited for the other wizard to begin. When he did, after a few more discreet glances in their direct vicinity, it was with a "finesse" only a Gryffindor could appreciate.

The fifth year determinedly surged up and brought Cedric's head down to lay a sloppy kiss on his lips. He managed it well enough for all that Cedric was several inches taller than the fifteen-year-old, but he was caught off guard by the shock that overtook him at the ballsy, presumptuous action to do much but stand there and let their lips connect.

Thankfully, the lips did not stay long enough for Cedric to attempt to pry off, as he would no doubt fail to do since he'd not regained his equilibrium. Eastman stared back at him with equal parts amusement and anxiety, and Cedric became aware that his mouth was wide open most unattractively, and closed it shut almost audibly.

Eastman's surprise tactic continued as he drove forward to deliver the final blow before Cedric had even begun to comprehend that some fifth year had stolen his virgin (to the same sex, at least) lips. "I like you, Diggory," he announced apprehensively and excitedly—though quite shamelessly—at the same time, his whole body taut with the amount of eager energy that was waiting to escape. "I have for a dreadfully long time. And I realize you may not remember me beyond being Garrett's brat of a brother—perhaps not even that—but I'm prepared to prove to you I'm no kid. I'm dead serious, and _I want you_."

Cedric's only reaction was a slow, puzzled blink. His mind was working at an appallingly reduced speed processing what had just happened. Considering this wasn't the first time someone had confessed to him, or had used such an unconventional method to do so, he shouldn't be this surprised. Not to mention, this was a school full of _teenage _boys. It wasn't all that uncommon to see two blokes together; heck, one of his best friends was dating a boy who was a schoolmate.

But Cedric himself had never been asked out by another boy before, though he knew some had had designs about him. He'd always assumed that they knew he was straight and didn't bother to ask for fear of a flat-out rejection. A little less than two weeks ago, Cedric might have done just that and said he was only into girls, but that had changed with Harry's arrival.

Was everyone else now privy to that, too?

Cedric glanced down at the eagerly awaiting boy, who was watching him with keen light brown, gold-flecked eyes. He looked very serious and sincere about his profession. Better to let him down easy, which meant he probably shouldn't comment on the stolen kiss, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Listen—" he started then paused briefly, realizing he still didn't know the kid's name.

The first signs of a flush appeared on the younger boy's face. "Oh, sorry; Galen."

"—Galen," Cedric continued smoothly, as though he'd known his name all along, "I appreciate your feelings, but I cannot accept them."

The utter devastation that wrought Eastman's face at these words made Cedric feel instantly horrible, a coil of something that felt like a mixture of nausea and anguish twisting in his stomach. Fortunately, before Cedric began feeling too sorry and had the foolish urge to take back his words, Eastman recovered with admirable equanimity, his tender eyes hardening and his mouth setting into a firm line.

"May I ask why?" There was a pleading edge to his tone despite its resolve, and Cedric knew that the reason had to be a very good one or his rejection would be much harder on Eastman.

"There's already someone else that I like," he replied softly, and silently observed the myriad of emotions that flitted through his eyes.

Eastman turned away from his gaze, preferring to stare intently at the floor beneath their feet. A small voice Cedric had a hard time identifying as the boy's previously resolute one mumbled, "I see."

It was so full of pain that Cedric felt another sharp pang in his chest. This shouldn't have been so hard. He'd sincerely thought the news would be better received, that the fact that he was turning Eastman down wasn't because of the boy himself would make it easier to bear.

He moved a hand forward to touch the fifth year's shoulder, trying to reassure him somehow, but quickly thought better of it and let it fall. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

He still wouldn't look at Cedric so all the older Hufflepuff could see was Eastman's dark copper head shaking back and forth as he said, "No. It's all right. It's my fault—loading all this onto you." His voice broke at the end, dedicated steadfastness suddenly seeming to leave him between one breath and the next, and he stumbled through his next words, "I-I…I'm sorry, I can't do this. I really thought I could; don't know what I was thinking."

To Cedric's horror, the boy's hands flew to cover his face, and all that was running through his mind was _please don't cry, please don't cry. _He couldn't deal with people crying, had the silliest weakness for it. Probably why he and Cho would have never worked out; the Beauxbatons girl had the propensity for crying at the drop of a hat.

But it turned out Eastman wasn't crying, _thank Merlin_, and was only making it so the older boy couldn't see his pain-filled expressions. After a moment of watching helplessly, Cedric was relieved to see Eastman pulling himself back together. The fifth year put on a credible mask of bravado and looked him straight in the eye, without an ounce of sorrow or regret for what he'd done, though he'd already voiced as much.

"Thank you for hearing me out," Eastman said in a flat tone almost devoid of emotion. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. If you don't mind, I'd like to return to the castle now."

Disconcerted by the way he was handling it, and only being able to blame himself further, Cedric nodded and moved out of the boy's way. "Okay," he said simply, barely stopping himself from apologizing again and possibly rubbing it in the Hufflepuff's face.

Eastman noticed this and appeared grateful for his prudence. "Good day," he said, and then strode past Cedric, who could only mutter a soft "Bye" as he was left to stand alone in the isolated gallery.

The desolation on Galen Eastman's patrician features plagued Cedric's thoughts throughout the day. It wasn't the first time he'd turned someone down—though not something he made a habit of—but no matter what, Eastman's disappointed expressions continued to replay in his head. Maybe it was because no one had ever been so earnest yet straightforward about their feelings for him. It made it all the more awful that he'd been the one to put him through that, even if it had been unavoidable.

Just when thoughts of Eastman were being shoved aside by the much more powerful awareness of Harry as Cedric left his suite to fetch the Gryffindor for dinner, talk between the Hufflepuff prefects in the Dorm brought it all back.

"You should've seen him, the poor bloke. Looked like he was mauled by an animal." The voice of fifth-year Nathaniel "Nate" Fenwick was the first to drift over to him as he stepped into the common room.

All the Hufflepuff prefects and some of the other fifth-year House prefects were huddled together in the circle of furniture by the spiral staircase to Cedric's suite and illuminated by the soft red and orange of the setting sun filtering through the window next to them. Besides the prefects, Daniel sat in a sofa also occupied by Étienne, with Andras comfortably situated on the arm, his feet planted on the French boy's cushion. Cedric was amazed he wasn't telling Andras off for laying his _unsanitary _shoes anywhere near his impeccable robes.

He supposed, though, that was because none of the boys seemed to be focusing on anything beyond their conversation. Wondering who'd gotten so injured, he drew closer to the group.

Andras leaned over, elbows digging into his thighs for leverage, and curiously, yet more tactfully than he usually would, questioned, "How do you mean?"

Nate frowned in remembrance of whatever he'd seen, the expression alone enough to convey it hadn't been pleasant, and that maybe he wasn't exaggerating about the "mauled by an animal" part. "Madam Pomfrey had a hard time reversing what had been done to him. That is, after it took her ages to figure out what it was," he revealed.

Ernie Macmillan arched a perfectly plucked brow at the younger boy. "What was it, then?"

Nate shrugged, and contorted his face trying to explain, "Something about a bunch of layered spells mixed with a physical attack only something a little less stronger than a werewolf could have dealt. I'm not sure, but the result was _not _pretty. He's got cuts that will take days to heal even after all Madam Pomfrey's done."

Daniel's concentration on the discussion shifted to Cedric as he tilted his head back. "That the same kid who wanted to talk to you this morning, Ced?" he asked. "Garrett's little brother?"

Cedric's eyes widened. "Galen?" he clarified, and his breath almost left him at the nods he received. "What happened to him?"

"Ee waz attacked," said the French sixth-year Hufflepuff Christophe Guermeau, his accent sharper than Étienne's—or any other French student who'd been attending Hogwarts for as long as he had. "No one knowz ou did eet."

Rodolphe Castel, the other Hufflepuff fifth-year prefect, scoffed. "_Attacked _is too nice for what was done to 'im!" he said sharply, his piercing yellow eyes reflecting a more personal response to the news than the others.

Christophe sobered at the teen's reaction. "_Bien sûr_; you are right."

"It must 'ave been someone quite powerful," Étienne put in, lightly tapping his chin in thought. "You all felt that strong magical disturbance earlier, did you not?"

All the other boys eyed one another in turn, looking as though they hadn't connected this with that. Cedric had to admit he hadn't either. He'd only thought the chilling blast of magic that had seemed to shake the entire castle was due to some kind of accident. He'd been in Arithmancy at the time—his last class of the day—and had attributed it to a spell gone horribly wrong in the Ancient Runes classroom, which was in the same corridor, and explained the relative proximity of the magical burst.

Nate had an expression of dawning realization on his face. "You know, that did happen at the same time."

Étienne smiled pleasurably, probably pleased that his theory had borne fruit. "I thought so. It is the only possible explanation."

This did not ease Cedric's concern, however. He was beginning to understand the full extent of the amount of pain inflicted upon the dignified, yet passionate boy who'd confessed to him only this morning. If someone had used that much magic on him, he shuddered to think what they'd done with it.

"Is he still in the hospital wing?" he inquired urgently. He only waited for Nate's nod before he swiftly strode out of the Dorm.

"Hey, wait—Cedric! Where ya going?" Andras called after him, sounding alarmed at his friend's abrupt departure. "It's almost dinnertime. You won't have enough time to visit him."

Cedric paid him no mind, though, and continued walking instead. He wasn't really in the mood for eating right now anyway. His mind couldn't help conjuring images of what Eastman might look like, and the resultant picture was not good at all.

He couldn't imagine who could do something like this, _why _they would do this. Who could feel such malice against Eastman that they would hurt him so badly?

His feet moved of their own accord as these thoughts ran rampant in his head, so he didn't notice he was in the third floor and walking down the corridor to the hospital wing until he heard voices up ahead. Tuning into his surroundings, he found that the voices belonged to Headmaster Dumbledore, Professors Snape, Black, and McGonagall, and Harry.

The doors of the infirmary closed behind the five, and the headmaster was practically dragging Harry by the hand, though it was in a way that made it seem like he wasn't. Harry appeared entirely unbothered about the hand tightly clenching his right bicep, and was, in fact, _smirking_. Even from where he stood, Cedric could make out the smug expression fixed onto his face, and the absolutely _unearthly glow _in his eyes, which was plainly visible to him even a few feet away.

He blinked, but when he looked again, he could still see it, so it must not have been his imagination. And that uncharacteristic superior smile was still there, and now Harry was walking with a swagger that he'd never associated with his graceful stride.

"I don't know why you felt the need to show me that," Harry drawled, giving all the professors a look at his strange haughty expression. "Did you imagine I'd react any differently?" He leaned in close to the headmaster to stage whisper in a conspiratorial manner, "Let me know what you thought of my actual reaction."

The headmaster pierced him with disappointed yet resigned eyes in return. Harry gave an unexpected chilling, open-mouthed laugh at that, and then his eyes traveled across the hall to finally land on Cedric. The sudden intense, smoldering gaze directed at him had Cedric frozen to the spot. Harry shook Professor Dumbledore's hand off with ease that had Cedric wondering why he hadn't done it earlier.

The professors called in unison, "Harry!" But Harry ignored them and strode over and was before him in three quick, long steps.

Cedric drew in a breath at having all that glowing intensity so close to him, and let it out in a rush when the glow transferred to Harry's face in a large smile. He smiled back tentatively, still a little unnerved by the way Harry's green eyes pierced him with such unnatural radiance, making him feel as though they were probing his insides and leaving tingling heat behind in their quest.

"Hi," greeted Harry after a moment spent staring at him. Cedric noted that, like everything about Harry this evening, it was the exact opposite of his soft, pleased 'Hello, Cedric.' But Harry didn't appear to be aware of—or want to pay attention to—his dilemma. "Did you come to get me for dinner?"

_Assuming I knew he was here and have come for him instead of asking why; definitely not like Harry. _Cedric was becoming a little concerned about the marked differences between the Harry he knew and the one before him. But even then, a part of him knew he'd seen glimpses of this Harry, though where and when he couldn't exactly pinpoint at this precise moment.

"Oh. No," Cedric replied delicately so as not to adversely tip the balance he instinctively recognized Harry was on the edge of, "I came to see a Housemate of mine. I heard he was badly injured and is in the hospital wing."

He did not succeed in his endeavor it seemed, as a distinctly menacing shadow chased away the glimmer in Harry's eyes, and a deep frown settled onto his face. The icy, dismembering stare he was being given sent shivers up and down Cedric's spine.

Then Harry's hands flew to clutch his biceps in a vise grip, green eyes flashing a burning crimson for a split second. Cedric's eyes widened in astonishment, and Harry's lips curled into a severe snarl at the same time. Harry's nearly growled words got lost in his throat, however, as the professors were suddenly among them and the headmaster forcibly wrenched the Gryffindor away from Cedric.

Harry, outraged, pulled at his arm and yelled, "Get your bloody hands off me, old man!" There was almost absolutely no hint of his Scots-Gaelic accent.

If Cedric thought he couldn't be more shocked, he was sorely mistaken. He watched in stunned silence as Harry yelled obscenities at both Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape while they tried to calm him down. The thing that surprised him most, though, was the fact that the professors weren't using more force to get their goal accomplished. They looked frustrated, but that was about as far as it went.

Professor Black stepped forward and seized Harry's growling face in his hands. "Harry," he said gently but firmly, "calm down. You're better than this, and you know it."

Harry stopped snapping and sneering, and his face softened. Suddenly, his eyes were no longer glowing as though they could substitute for light in a darkened room, and were back to their normal, human—but still bright—emerald color. The kindness Cedric was used to seeing drifted into that previously cold gaze.

He looked around at all of them, and then his expression became that of one in extreme pain. Harry put his palms over his eyes and rasped what Cedric could barely pick up as, "Oh—oh, _Merlin_, what have I done?"

Professor Black pulled him into a fierce hug, tucking his godson's face into the crook of his neck and smoothing back his hair. "It's all right, Harry. It's all right."

Cedric was unable to make heads or tails of what was happening, or what had just happened. What was wrong with Harry? That thought was immediately pushed aside when Harry drew in a deep, hoarse breath.

_Oh, no, is he crying? _Cedric had the sudden urge to shove Professor Black aside and take his place comforting Harry. He scarcely stopped himself from doing just that. Even when Harry brought his head up to look at him and proved that he certainly _was not crying_, Cedric still wanted to wrap his arms around him in a tight, devouring embrace—especially when those eyes gazed at him in that way.

The sixth year drew away from his godfather and stepped toward Cedric, though he didn't come too close as the professors were scrutinizing him carefully. Cedric resented them for their overbearing presence. He'd originally planned to tell Harry about his feelings when he would've had to get him for dinner, and now that the plan had changed, he could have used this time to do it. _Oddly, his intent to visit Eastman had utterly left his mind._

"Will I see you after dinner, Cedric?" Harry asked timidly, pleadingly, as if he wouldn't be able to handle the answer should it be anything other than an affirmative one.

Cedric realized Harry was unsure if the older boy still wanted to be anywhere near him after his uncharacteristic display. He promptly allayed those fears by reaching down and lightly brushing their fingers together, and responding, "Of course."

All he caught was a glimpse of a big, breathtaking smile overcoming Harry's face before Professor Dumbledore resumed dragging him away with a, "Come, Harry." Cedric stared after the unresisting Boy Who Lived and didn't remember why he was in the corridor until he could no longer see him.

It was a good thing he'd gotten his fill, too. Harry was nowhere to be found at dinner, or after dinner, or at any time during the rest of the day, for that matter.

-:-

It was the following day—Thursday morning—when the castle heard news of Harry Potter's parents visiting Hogwarts. Only then, right before breakfast when he went to get Harry, did he see the Gryffindor since his failure to meet him at their promised time.

Cedric had to admit he was a little confused and a great deal upset about that. He'd actually been looking forward to taking Harry back to his rooms after dinner and having the chance to finally get things straight between them. Maybe Harry had picked up on that with typical perceptiveness, and wasn't as into him as Cedric was, so had decided not to show because he didn't want the same thing.

Cedric shook his head to clear it of any doubts. He'd never been so anxious about this kind of thing; why was it that Harry had such an effect on him? He had to be level-headed and positive or he'd set himself up for failure from the get-go.

With that resolve, he walked more confidently to Harry's rooms, hoping his composure didn't fail and abandon him at the last minute. He really wasn't keen on making a fool of himself just when he was going to profess his liking to the first boy he'd _ever _been even remotely interested in.

Soon he was strolling down the corridor to Harry's rooms and, the closer he got to the oak door in the middle, the more voices he could hear coming from behind it. Odd, it sounded as though there were several people in there. He realized Harry might be busy with company, but moved ahead anyway, figuring it was probably only Professor Black or his friends, Longbottom and Weasley, though how the redhead notorious for being a late riser could beat him from the Dorm was a wonder.

Once in front of it, Cedric knocked on the door a bit harder than he commonly would so as to be heard over all the noise. Come to think of it now, it didn't sound as though he was only in the company of Professor Black or just his friends. There had to be at least four people not including Harry in there.

"That must be Cedric," came Harry's mellow lilt.

"I'll get it!" The enthusiastic voice was one Cedric had never heard before, and it sounded like that of a first-year boy's. Before Cedric had a chance to try to figure out who it might be, the door flung open to reveal that not only did the boy sound like a first year, he looked like one, too.

Except this wasn't a first year he'd ever seen because if he attended Hogwarts, there was no way he would have missed him. Standing before him was—simply put—a miniature Harry; from the hair that gave the appearance of barely tamed disorder to the too bright green eyes (albeit a more golden-olive color than emerald) right down to the shorter yet still undeniably same lean build.

"Hi!" the boy who must be Harry's younger brother greeted excitedly. "Are you Cedric?" His Scots-Gaelic accent was much more obvious than Harry's, it turned out.

Cedric blinked at his rather unHarry-like liveliness, but recovered enough to say, "Hello. Yes, I am. And you must be Harry's brother."

The boy nodded vigorously. "Yep! That's me. So you've heard of me?"

Cedric tried to look past him to the room beyond, but couldn't make out much since the door was only open enough for him to see Harry's brother. "Unfortunately, no. Harry hasn't mentioned much."

An exaggerated pout was the kid's reaction to that. "Harry's like that, you know," he confided as though he were telling a secret. "He didn't tell us about you until just now."

"Us?"

Then another boy shoved into the space next to the other. For a moment, Cedric thought he was seeing double, but quickly realized that they were identical twins; even the way they held themselves and their voice—complete with the native-sounding Scottish brogue—was identical.

"Yeah, us!" the newly-arrived twin replied, who Cedric could tell apart from the other only because he'd seen him slip into the space to the right. "Oh, and mum and dad, 'course."

"What are those boys up to now?" An older, feminine voice could be heard from inside.

"Are you two going to let him in or make him hang around out here?" Harry came to stand behind the two grinning boys, and the similarities between the three of them was so striking that it looked like they'd come as triplets instead of twins. Well, except that Harry looked much older, but the resemblance was still uncanny.

The twins both looked up at their older brother and chimed in an eerily similar manner that reminded Cedric of the Weasley twins, "Sorry, Harry." If the Weasley twins ever apologized for bad etiquette, that is.

Cedric smiled down in amusement at them, and then glanced back up at Harry. "Morning, Harry," he greeted, and was more than delighted to hear his customary "Good morning, Cedric" in return.

"Good morning, Cedric!" the twins echoed in unison, grinning mischievously from ear to ear.

Harry shook his head at them, eyes glinting amusedly. "As you've made yourselves comfortable with his name, why don't you give him a chance to learn yours?"

The twin on the left, the first one Cedric had seen, set himself upon this task with enthusiasm. He thrust out his hand for Cedric and elaborately introduced himself. "Cian Potter, Mr. Cedric; pleased to make your acquaintance."

Cedric couldn't help chuckling as he shook the boy's smaller hand. "Mr. _Diggory_, but you can just stick to calling me Cedric. It's nice to meet you, too, Cian."

Cian Potter tilted his head up superiorly and drawled, "Well, I suppose I can allow you to be among the privileged few who call me by name."

The other twin snickered. "Don't be such a prat, Cian," he scolded good-naturedly. He straightened up importantly, tucked his hand under his waist, and bowed deeply. "Eimon Potter, at your service."

Keeping in his laughter with difficulty, especially as Cian wasn't doing anything of the sort, Cedric returned the bow. "Pleased to meet you, Eimon."

"Okay, that's enough," Harry declared, though he too appeared highly amused at their antics, and used to it at the same time. "Why don't you go back in and give us a moment," he suggested.

The twins glanced between them with a discerning gaze that seemed to be reading too much into Harry's words. Then they announced in unison, "Okay! Bye, Cedric!" They slipped back into the room after Cedric returned their swift farewell.

Harry stepped further away from the door and pulled it forward behind him, leaving only a small crack open. "Sorry, they can be a handful," he said affectionately.

"They're lovely," Cedric assured with a smile. "How old are they?"

"Ten. They'll be attending Hogwarts next year," replied Harry, making Cedric wonder why it was that his brothers were allowed to attend the academy when _they _were eleven, but Harry hadn't been. Probably something that had to do with his 'alleged' illness.

"Shame, I'll be gone by then." He'd meant it as a joke, but found that he was lamenting the end of his Hogwarts career a lot more than he had been at the beginning of the term.

Harry frowned at that, and Cedric liked to think that it was because he didn't want him to graduate so soon after they'd met either. This, more than any of the other signs and conjectures, firmly decided it for Cedric. But now wasn't a good time for it. He didn't want to rush this in any way.

"Listen, Harry," he started, calling on any Gryffindor qualities he might have possessed in his mostly Hufflepuff and slightly Ravenclaw personality, "there's something I want to tell you. It's really important. Can we meet later? Maybe after dinner?"

Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, it certainly wasn't for Harry to frown sadly or for him to look so upset. "I'm sorry, Cedric," he spoke in an undertone. "I would love to, but I'm not going to be able to. I won't be here for that long."

Panic seized Cedric at hearing this. His mind jumped to the first conclusion it came up with and he asked, nearly desperately, "Are you leaving school for good?" He was aware of the sound of his voice pitching higher, and had to deliberately lower it.

In response, Harry gave him a barely perceptible smile and shook his head. "No. I'll only be gone for a little while. It shouldn't be longer than a week."

Feeling a little foolish, the Hufflepuff willed his thudding heartbeat to calm. "Oh," he let all his breath out in a huff, as he'd been holding it in anticipation of Harry's answer. "That's good," he continued, feeling even stupider knowing that he had nothing else to say. He should be making the most of however long Harry would be here before he left. So, gathering his scattered thoughts together, Cedric asked, "When are you going to be leaving?"

"We will leave after breakfast," said Harry, not specifying by whom he was referring to as "we," though Cedric supposed he meant his visiting family. Then, appearing nervous and flustered, he babbled on (which Harry never did), "I was supposed to leave by Floo the moment I woke, but dad wanted to have breakfast with Sirius, then mum wanted to see Severus as well, and then the twins decided they wanted to go, too, and they were all suddenly coming to Hogwarts."

Cedric finally grasped that Harry thought he blamed him for having to go and was trying to cover that up by being more talkative than he'd ever been. Or was perhaps compensating for the time they wouldn't see one another while he was gone. Either way, it was an oddly endearing sight, even if not one he'd normally get to see.

"Harry," he spoke over the still babbling sixth year, who promptly shut his mouth when addressed. Cedric daringly took those long, pale fingers into his hands, and lightly stroked them with his own. His eyes never left Harry's own unflinching, fascinated gaze. "It's okay," he continued softly, feeling as if the moment was too intimate to break with anything louder. "I'll miss you, but I'll see you again, won't I?"

Harry caught his breath and nodded slowly, his eyes brighter and now full of awe. "I'll miss you, too," he said, a light blush stealing over his beautiful, beautiful face as he admitted this.

Cedric was more entranced by the mere glimpse of that small, shy smile and those slightly reddened cheekbones and the glint full of promise in Harry's eyes than he'd ever been by the female form, which—for a supposedly still relatively straight man—came as a rather shocking revelation. Suddenly overpowered by the flood of emotions and _sensations _coursing through his entire body, he disentangled his fingers from Harry's soft, warm ones.

Just in time, too; the door creaked behind Harry as it was swung open. A tall man a couple of inches taller than Harry stepped out into the hall with them. He looked a lot like an older version of Harry and the twins, except with hazel eyes covered by rectangular frameless glasses, a longer nose, and more disheveled hair, though it appeared deliberate on the man's part. Cedric knew right away that this was Harry's father, James Potter.

"Hello. Cedric Diggory, I presume?" Mr. Potter asked him, though he didn't wait for an answer and was already holding out his hand for Cedric to shake. "James Potter."

Cedric returned the handshake. "Yes, sir. Pleasure to meet you."

Still holding onto his hand, Mr. Potter thumped his arm and said, "No need to call me 'sir.' Makes me sound old and stuffy." He let go of him and, directing a playful gaze at Cedric, continued, "Lord Potter will do."

Amusement must have been his desired goal because he didn't get offended when Cedric laughed lightly but, in fact, joined in with his own chuckle. It was obvious where the Potter twins got their peculiar sense of humor from.

"A Head Boy who can take a joke," Mr. Potter said with mock bewilderment. He turned to Harry and announced, "I like that; I approve."

What he was approving of was lost on Cedric, although Harry seemed to understand what his father was on about.

"_You _were Head Boy, dad," Harry informed, sounding exasperated, the way one would be at a child's antics.

Mr. Potter's expression was one of great offence. "Harry! We promised never to talk about that ever again! To think, my own son." He kept up the pretense of being hurt for only a moment before his face broke out into a crooked, haughty grin. "Yeah, but I was the_ coolest _Head Boy in Hogwarts history, so I can be excused for being approved by the professors, of all things."

"The horror," Harry drawled sardonically.

Mr. Potter winked in response. "Hurry it up, Harry. Your mum's getting impatient with Sirius and Snape's constant bickering." He shook his head as though at children who refused to behave. "Those two—can't have them in a room together without them trying to tear each other apart."

Harry raised a brow at that. "And I'm sure you were completely innocent."

"Well," Mr. Potter said in a manner that was probably meant to be sheepish but only succeeded in looking smug. "Can't just sit there and not back up my best mate, you know."

"Honestly, what Severus did to either of you to deserve that, I'll never understand," sighed Harry.

"_Oh_, he thinks I'm not onto him. I know he's thinking dirty, filthy things about my wife. He was always rubbing it in my face at school that he was closer to her than I was," Mr. Potter muttered mutinously. "I hardly saw her as it was, and when I did, he was always right there clinging to her, the slimy bastard. And Merlin knows—"

Harry pushed his father back into the room saying, "Okay, dad. We'd really rather not hear about this age old suspicion. Just wait for me inside, and I'll be right in."

Mr. Potter continued talking to himself as he ducked back inside, "—what they were doing during the summer. Lily really is too trusting for her own good."

"Are you still on about that?" a woman who had to be Harry's mother could be heard saying as the door was left ajar after Mr. Potter slipped in.

The enmity between Professors Black and Snape was well-known in Hogwarts, and it seemed Mr. Potter had the same dislike for the Potions Master. Cedric, despite himself, was amused at Mr. Potter's behavior. It was a lot like Professor Black's and, if they really were best friends, it was easy to understand why.

"I'll see you after I come back?" Harry probably hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but that's the way it came out, an entreating, unsure tone tinging it.

"Definitely," Cedric assured. "You'll let me know the moment you do?"

Harry gave him a smile that lit up his face, and which Cedric had a hard time enduring without acting on his urge to thoroughly kiss those smiling lips. That wouldn't be good, though. It wasn't the right time or place. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I will."

"Good," said Cedric, satisfied and returning his smile with a bigger grin. Then he was reminded of such trivial things as eating and class that he'd forgotten in Harry's presence. He'd already missed fifteen or twenty minutes of breakfast. "I've held you up long enough; your parents must be waiting for you."

"They'll understand." Harry frowned then, like he'd just realized something. "But you haven't had a chance to have breakfast. I apologize for being so inconsiderate."

Cedric almost sighed, but held it back in time. He wished Harry could be as free around him as he'd been with his brothers and father. He hoped that, given more time, they could come to a point where he didn't have to apologize for every little moment of broken etiquette or each time he was even remotely out of his mild character.

Instead of conveying this wish to him, Cedric told Harry that it was fine and he wasn't that hungry anyway. And then the same woman whose voice he'd heard earlier called that it was time to leave. Cedric briefly wondered if there was a fireplace connected to the Floo Network in Harry's rooms.

The Gryffindor opened the door wider and told the occupants of the room that he'd be right there. He looked back at Cedric and smiled in a way that could only be considered wistful. "Bye, Cedric."

Cedric's right hand, which had previously been in his trouser pocket, came up to give a short wave. "See you, Harry." Though the arrival of his family had meant that Harry would be leaving, he couldn't complain too much since that had given him an opportunity to learn more about Harry, and be witness to a different side of him.

Only after the door clicked closed did Cedric comprehend that—_damn_—he truly was as "hard up" for Harry as Andras accused him of being. He'd been so caught up in bemoaning the fact that he wasn't going to be seeing Harry for Merlin knows how long that he'd forgotten to even ask _why _the Gryffindor was suddenly leaving.

And, thinking about it, he could only think of one reason. For the first time since he'd heard it, Cedric was inclined to believe that maybe this illness rumor wasn't a rumor.

-:-

Harry was gone for four _long, excruciating _days in which Cedric noticed practically nothing but his palpable absence.

He wished he could say it was all a blur, but he was painstakingly aware of everything he did and how long every single moment of it took. Class—even favorites like Charms and Ancient Runes—seemed to stretch on for an impossibly long time. He couldn't help being utterly bored during meals, what with no Harry there to…well, ogle, really. Both Andras and Étienne teased him senselessly for his impatience—or, as Andras called it, "edginess."

Besides endeavoring and failing to busy himself with things other than constantly thinking about Harry, he'd finally visited Galen Eastman on Friday. And learned that Nate's description of Eastman's injuries had seemed like a huge understatement in the face of the actual thing. Even after healing for two days and being under the excellent care of Madam Pomfrey, there were still traces of a ghastly attack on Eastman's face and body.

The fifth-year Hufflepuff had scars on almost every inch of his face and neck, and they looked like nails dug deeply into his skin and dragged down in a most painful manner. His head, torso, arms, and legs, though not in a cast or anything, were all wrapped in thick gauze. Eastman had admitted that it was so he wasn't tempted to move or couldn't accidentally do it while sleeping as the mere twitch of his muscles shot pain through every nerve ending.

The boy had looked so pitiful and small. He'd been especially upset that he couldn't remember anything of the attack, or what had led up to it. Cedric hadn't been able to bear seeing him so broken and unable to do anything but watch, and had not stayed long for the visit. He'd wished the fifth year a quick recovery, and beat a hasty retreat.

His swift departure may have also had to do with the fact that Eastman had been looking a little hopeful by the attention he'd gotten from Cedric. He hadn't wanted the younger student to get it in his head that he had a chance with him.

Inevitably, his thoughts went back to Harry when he realized the Gryffindor wouldn't be coming back by the weekend as he'd hoped. He'd told Harry he would miss him, but not how _much_, and even he was surprised by it. When Harry hadn't returned after the last class on Monday, Cedric had given up hope that four days wouldn't turn into five.

Tired after another long day, Cedric waited out dinner in the Head/Prefects bathroom, indulging in a relaxing, luxurious soak. He'd chosen yellow bubbles that had an aromatic scent of lemon combined with jasmine. It was a heady aroma, and he could barely keep from nodding off, especially since his entire body felt so loose and comfortable.

Loose, comfortable, and _careless_. He didn't see that he had company until scuff sounds reached the recesses of his slack brain. He became alert in an instant and his hand flew to his wand, which was just out of reach. He pointed it in the direction of the door, while wondering who'd intruded on him when he knew for sure that he'd bolted the door. The prefects respected someone's need for privacy and knew to stay clear when the door was locked from the inside.

Cedric lowered his wand when he saw who it actually was. His breath caught in his throat. "Harry."

The boy in question smirked in return and continued to slip off his shoes, relaxed as you please. "No need for that," Harry purred, prompting Cedric to set his wand aside. He stood straight after laying his shoes aside. And then he lifted his shirt over his head, and threw it aside next to his already discarded robes.

If Cedric had a problem catching his breath before, it was nothing compared to the way his heart beat at a frantic pace at the sight of Harry's shirtless form. Both his throat and groin tightened in a painful, delicious combination. He'd never been so glad for the excess amount of bubbles in the bath. All that lean, toned expanse of ivory flesh coupled with two dark pink nubs…he really wasn't helping his predicament.

Harry's satisfied smirk never left his face while he watched Cedric with a heavy gaze that did nothing to lessen the condition he was in. "I was looking for you," he informed, voice low and seductive as it carried across the room. Or maybe he was doing that on purpose? "I finally tracked you here. Frankly, I couldn't have chosen a better place."

Perhaps Cedric would have wondered about Harry's seductive attitude if he could think of anything beyond those glimmering eyes (They might have been glowing the way they did sometimes, but it could also be that they were naturally bright, and seemed brighter in a room lit only by one candle-filled chandelier.) and predatory stalk as the other boy made his way over to the large tub while undoing his trousers at the same time.

However, he found the capacity of mind to ask, "A better place for what?"

Harry's pants dropped the moment he stood at the foot of the sunken bathtub. Cedric was both disappointed and relieved to see he was wearing dark blue boxer briefs underneath, though they too didn't leave much to the imagination.

Cedric must have been staring too long. Harry's eyes followed his gaze to where it was fixed on the snugly-fitting briefs, and he laughed quietly. He sat down on the edge of the tub and submerged his legs into the water, and then pushed off the surface and entered the rest of his body.

His hands moved under the water in a way that suggested he was removing the only thing that stood between him and complete nudity. Cedric felt as though he might choke at the possibility, and used the moment Harry turned around to place his wet briefs on the marble floor to calm his overcharged libido.

He wasn't too distracted to glimpse the line of what looked like shining silver-outlined black tattoos on Harry's back, though. They trailed in a slight curve from the top of his right shoulder all the way down to his right hip. Now that Cedric took a closer look, he realized that they weren't any old tattoos, but elaborately designed runes.

Harry swiveled back around then, and began to wade his way over to the deeper side of the water where Cedric was. "I believe you asked me what this place was better for," he said, still speaking with a soft purr of seduction.

Having totally forgotten about that, Cedric nodded, but said nothing and watched as Harry swam over to him. He swallowed convulsively at the thought of that nude body near his own. Banishing the very arousing thought away, he asked, "Harry, what are those runes on your back?"

He received a headshake in response. Harry came to a stop right before him, and put his arms on either side of Cedric's suddenly unresponsive body, resting his palms against the rim of the pool-sized tub. "Don't worry about it," he said, staring at Cedric's face with an unnerving desire that lit an inextinguishable flame in the pit of Cedric's stomach. "There's something much more prominent on my mind."

"What?" Cedric asked, captivated.

"This," said Harry before leaning forward to abruptly plant his lips against Cedric's rather unprepared ones.

His state of astonishment only lasted for a nanosecond before Cedric comprehended that Harry was _kissing him_. Like a starved man, at that. Not one to be beat, Cedric placed one hand on the back of the younger boy's neck and wrapped the other around the small of his back, and returned the kiss with equal need.

The Gryffindor's lips were warm and soft and felt _oh-so_ good, and were as different from Eastman's awkward brush as could be. His taste was a tangy mixture of pineapple and raspberries and something else he could only describe as _Harry_. Cedric's arousal spiked as his lips moved against Harry's in a sensual dance. He stroked his tongue along the lower lip and reveled in their mingling breaths and Harry's silky skin under his fingertips.

Harry moved his arms to wrap them around Cedric, and eagerly opened his mouth for him. Cedric's tongue slipped into the offered heat, and they both moaned when their tongues met. Shivers went up and down his spine as he twined their tongues together and sucked once, twice, three times, lost count and still couldn't get enough. Cedric wondered if it was possible to come from kissing alone.

They were kissing for a whole minute when they remembered that they'd forgotten to breathe through their nose in their enthusiasm to devour one another. Gasping and panting, they tore apart to draw in some much neglected air, but didn't move from the other's hold.

The look Harry was currently giving him proved to be almost as arousing as his kiss. One of his hands moved up from his back to entangle in his hair. He drew closer to give him a series of quick kisses, breathlessly saying between each one, "Missed you…missed you _so _much."

Cedric gulped at all the emotions swirling in those extremely green eyes. "I missed you, too, Harry," he admitted, and leaned forward to lightly press their lips together again. The one peck melted into several more, and he began to feel other exhilarating sensations as they joined in another all-consuming kiss.

He could feel Harry's magic from where his fingers were holding onto his head, past the tangles of his hair, past the surface of his skin, and imparting lightning-like jolts of electricity into his nerves, and blood, and—_Merlin_—reaching and caressing his own magical core, as though intrigued, and awed, and _hungering _for more.

The most overwhelming of the magic came from where his fingers roamed across Harry's back, touching and caressing over where he knew the newly-discovered runes to be. Harry groaned and shuddered when he lightly stroked over each individual rune, and deepened their kiss, making keening sounds in the back of his throat that nearly caused Cedric to come right there.

While it turned out that wasn't possible from just kissing, Cedric learned that it was completely possible to like Harry beyond the point of no return from the feel of his lips alone. If he got nothing else from the month of September, at least he was going into October with Harry by his side.

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I don't want you guys to think Cedric is stupid or anything. There's a reason why he's not questioning things more, or why the rest of the school isn't, for that matter. _And, despite all likely clues to the contrary, HARRY IS NOT A WEREWOLF!_

_**And if anyone wants to get an idea of what the runes look like on Harry's back, go to the link on my page. It took me an annoyingly long time to get it just right, but it still doesn't look like it's imprinted on the skin. I'm not exactly a Photoshop expert.**_

_Someone asked about all the French names. I thought that was pretty obvious. Hogwarts is an all-boys' school and Beauxbatons is an all-girls' school; so all the boys that would normally go to Beauxbatons have to attend Hogwarts now and all the girls that would be attending Hogwarts have to go to Beauxbatons. Plus, more of the Hogwarts/Beauxbatons relationship will be revealed in chapter 10._

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Edited: 2/3/10


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